You Had Me From Hello
by nerdielady
Summary: This story is the third part of a series, starting with ‘Getting to Know You’ and continuing with ‘A New Day Coming’. This story covers the second semester of Nyota’s third year at the Academy. M rated for a reason!
1. Chapter 1: Kisses Sweeter Than Wine

Author's Note: This story is the third part of a series, starting with 'Getting to Know You' and continuing with 'A New Day Coming'. This one will make a lot more sense if you read those two first.

This story covers the second semester of Nyota's third year at the Academy and ends shortly after the movie does. This is DEFINITELY an M rated story!

****

Countdown : Go for Launch.

____________

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter One : Kisses Sweeter Than Wine**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid January 2258**

It was finals week. She wasn't supposed to be in Spock's office, she was supposed to be studying. But she couldn't seem to concentrate anywhere else, so here she sat, at the desk she had been sitting at every morning all semester, books and PADDs spread out around her, earbuds in listening to the sounds of soft music to distract her, studying. Trying desperately not to pay any attention to that hot body so close to hers. That hot body that she desperately wanted to be plastered against. It was frustrating, exasperating, but exactly what she should have expected. He had been adamant - after that first wonderful embrace, lips and tongues and hands and _wonder_ - that they must wait. And she did understand why - but it was still frustrating. _Very_ frustrating. And she was fairly certain that it was frustrating to _both_ of them. After all, she had spent so many hours in his presence that she knew his mannerisms very, very well. She could read the smallest twitch of his muscles, the faint changes of expression on his face - and there was definitely a _lot_ of tension there this morning. Maybe she shouldn't have come here - but this was the last week that she would be sitting with him all morning and she just _couldn't_ not be here.

Trying to rid herself of the tension that made her want to jump up and yell, she decided it was time to make tea. She rose and set the controls of the mini-replicator to make the boiling water, then turned to reach for the teapot sitting on his desk. As she twisted around him, he straightened up, bringing the top of his head under her chin, his shoulders back against her breasts. He gasped, but didn't move away. She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring his heat against her, then slowly straightened up with the teapot in her hand. He hadn't moved, his hands were splayed flat on his desk, rigid. She wasn't sure what to do, whether to say anything. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, then turned his chair around, so that he was looking at her.

"Nyota." Just one word, but the sound of his voice, low, rumbling, told her so much.

"I didn't do that deliberately." Her voice was very quiet - and she found that she was speaking in Vulcan.

"I am aware of that. It was my fault entirely." He replied in the same language. He sighed again, a very definite sigh, and shook his head slightly. "It does make it _difficult._" He stopped. Then he did something she really hadn't anticipated. He extended one hand towards her, two fingers held up. She looked at him, not really sure what he wanted. He just sat there, waiting. She let loose of the teapot with one hand, folded it into the same shape as his and extended those two fingers towards his until their fingertips just met. Sparks sizzled between them. She felt that those sparks should have been visible, they were so strong. She smothered a gasp. He raised one eyebrow and she couldn't help smiling at him. And then she felt that warmth that she remembered, flowing down from her fingertips, flooding throughout her, caressing, cherishing. Was there a way to return that? She searched around, trying to shape a response, sending it down to her fingertips, across to his. His face changed - she saw it - muscles around his eyes softening, creases in his forehead smoothing out, jaw unclenching. She must have been successful. Her smile widened. He quirked his lips up at her, slid his fingers down the side of hers, down the side of her hand, around her wrist, then dropped his hand into his lap and turned his chair around again.

Well, _nice_! She wasn't sure exactly what that had been, obviously something very Vulcan, but she was certainly looking forward to doing it again. Everywhere he had touched tingled. She realized that the mini-replicator chime was sounding and turned around to make the tea. When it had finished steeping, she poured out two cups, setting one on her desk and walking carefully around him to set the other beside him. He nodded at her, his lips quirking up again, and she sat back at her desk, put the earbuds back in and began to study, sipping slowly on her tea.

***

At noon she gathered up her belongings, dumping them all into her carrybag, rinsed her teacup, took her earbuds out and stashed them in the tiny player she had in her pocket. She was ready to leave when he turned towards her.

"You have a final this afternoon, correct?"

"Yes, one each afternoon all week. I won't be able to come to the gym - I'll miss it. But I'll be on the track in the morning." She gave him a small smile.

"I am confident that you shall excel in your exams. You should not worry about them." He paused, exhaled, dropped his eyes. "Nyota." He paused again. Finally he raised his eyes to hers again. "If you do not need to study all evening, it would be extremely acceptable for you to come for supper and meditation." He stopped again, watching her.

Her smile was wide, her eyes glowing. "I wouldn't miss that, Spock. I'll be there." Once again, she saw the tiny signs of tension released. Glancing towards the door to the office to be sure the hall was empty, she raised one hand and swept two fingertips across the back of his hand before leaving the office.

***

She stood in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear. That seemed to be a problem more and more often. It was funny, because she never used to pay that much attention to her clothes. And she wasn't even sure how much attention he paid. Well, he _had_ liked that red dress with all the little ruffles. And the green one. She grinned to herself.

"What are you grinning about now, girl? You look like the cat that got the cream." Gaila broke into her reminiscing. "What are you trying to dress for now?"

"Um, just going over to help Spock cook dinner, read a little poetry, practice meditation. I just need to pick something comfortable."

"Yeah, and as sexy as all get-out while you're at it! You need to push that guy some, girl, let him know what he's missing." Gaila was beside her now, pawing through her clothes. "How about this?" She pulled out a tiny halter-top sundress.

"Gaila, that's for summer! For the beach!"

"Well, it's summer somewhere. I think it's perfect."

"Well, it's not. I need to be much more covered up than that." She went back to pulling things out to look at them.

Beside her Gaila thought hard. "Covered up - you want to be covered up? Why?"

She was flustered now. She ducked her head and mumbled, then at Gaila's glowering look, spoke louder. "I read this old article that said that you should 'increase anticipation' - and one of the suggestions was to cover everything up. And since our uniforms are so short - " Her voice trailed off.

"Oh. Hey, that makes a bunch of sense. Okay, then, let me look again." She rummaged again, this time coming out of the closet with something entirely different, a look of glee on her face.

"I think you've got it!" She practically danced now, thinking of how he would react to _this_.

**Spock**

He was pulling vegetables out of the fridge when she came through the door, so he didn't see her until she was right next to him in the kitchen. When he did, he straightened up in shock. She was almost completely covered - and almost completely _uncovered_, at the same time. Over her shoulder, he could see her coat, where she had dropped it on the end of the couch, so she hadn't come across the campus like _that_, fortunately. He couldn't quite figure out what she was wearing, but it was almost the same color as her skin, but seemed to be made of some very soft fabric, almost plush. He wanted most urgently to run his fingers over it. It covered her from wrist to ankles and almost up to her chin. And was so molded to her body that she seemed to be wearing nothing at all. A low growl came from his throat, unbidden. He took one step towards her, hands reaching forward. He almost had her within his grasp when she opened her mouth and spoke.

"Spock, you said not yet." Just a few words, spoken with almost no inflection, but they stopped him cold.

He stood there, shaking, burning. Why had she worn this? To deliberately inflame him? If so, it had certainly done the job. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. He couldn't think. That hot swelling was back again, uncomfortable. He did not know how to deal with it. Her fingers reached out, touched his cheek so gently, so lightly. He tilted his face against her hand, desperate for any contact. Through her cool fingers came _calm, peace, soothing_. Like a drowning man, he grasped that contact and pulled it into himself, settling himself with the feelings she was sending him. He inhaled deeply, breathed out slowly, centering himself again. When he felt that he was back in control of himself, he lifted his face from her hand and looked into her eyes once more. "Thank you, Nyota. I seem to have no control."

"I think maybe this is something we need to practice." She was looking at him, something tentative in her eyes.

"Yes, I think you are right. I think I need to practice how to control myself around you." He paused, took another breath, captured her hand again. "I am much stronger than you, Nyota, and I have no desire to harm you in any way. I need to learn control - by stages. I will need your help."

She nodded her head, stroked his cheek again, softly. "Yes, I think so, too. And I will help, Spock, we will work on it together."

He took another deep breath and released her hand, turning back to the vegetables set on the counter. _What was it that he had meant to cook_?

***

Somehow he managed to prepare supper with her working beside him, continually startling him when he caught glimpses out of the corner of his eye of what looked like a completely nude Nyota. This was extremely difficult. And sitting across from her while they ate was not much better. And when she said she wanted to meditate instead of reading poetry because she needed to return to her dorm and get a good night's sleep, he was disappointed and relieved at the same time. And then she did the second thing that both shocked and delighted him that night.

She did not change her clothing to meditate. She waited until he was almost settled, and then she stepped between his feet and settled herself in front of him, touching everywhere, folding her legs about his, resting her back against his chest, the top of her head under his chin, her hands laying on top of his on his thighs. He could not breath, he could not ever have imagined anything as wonderful as this. She gave a little sigh, wiggled about a little, settling herself, and began her relaxation exercises. He could feel her relaxing her muscles, starting at her feet and working her way up her body, each group of muscles tensing and then relaxing against him. Waves of _calm_ flowed out of her, into him, settling him down, helping him find his center again. And then she drifted off into a light, floating trance, breathing evenly against him, while he held her, unable to move a single muscle, afraid to move or say a word and ruin this wonderful thing that she had done.

***

They walked to her dorm through the soft darkness, their fingertips twined about each other, soaking in the glow of happiness at being with each other. At the door, they paused, facing each other and the hand he was not holding came up to cup his cheek again. He bent down to her, touching his forehead to hers, feeling her emotions wash over him. He rolled his face sideways and brushed his lips against her temple, trailing down her cheekbone, down to her lips, caressed her lips softly, his tongue brushing against her lips, so gently. She sighed, her breath soft against his face. Then he straightened up, away from her, and brought their joined hands to his lips, brushing her fingers softly with his lips before letting her hand go. She sighed again, then opened her eyes and smiled at him, so happy.

"I will see you on the track in the morning."

"Yes, I'll be there." She turned and entered her dorm, leaving him alone. But some part of him was with her as she walked the short distance to her room. He could feel her, a tiny presence in the back of his mind. _Strange, they had not melded, he should not be able to feel that_. Odd, but very nice.

**Friday**

For the last time, she gathered up her belongings to leave his office. The office that was going to be so empty without her sitting there beside him. He rose as she turned to leave, stepped in front of her. "Nyota."

She raised her face to his, waiting.

"When you walk out of this office, you will no longer be my aide." He saw a shiver run over her. Her lips parted slightly. "May I escort you to dinner this evening to celebrate the end of your finals?" Her eyes were large and liquid. "I would find it extremely acceptable." His voice was much lower than he intended it to be, but she had heard.

"Yes, Spock, that would be ... lovely." There was a hitch in her voice that he heard quite clearly. She did recognize the significance of what he had said then. "What should I wear?"

Almost he said the brown thing she had worn on Monday evening, but he stopped himself in time. That was _not _something he wanted her to be seen in outside of his quarters. He found that he could not picture any of her clothing, his mind had gone completely blank at the memory of her in that brown _suit_. Casting about for a suitable answer, he finally decided to just tell her where he intended for them to go. "If you would like, we could go to that Indian restaurant. The one that we went to the first time from the message array lab."

She smiled widely at him. "Okay. I will be ready at 1700." And then she was gone. But he would see her in five hours.

**Nyota**

Once again she stood in front of her closet, trying to select something to wear. Gaila was already gone - off to celebrate with drinking and dancing and the three male cadets who had arrived at the door almost together, not the least bit upset to discover that they would be sharing her. She shook her head, not understanding how her friend could do this. Different biology, different behavior. Spock's biology was different, too. She remembered that growl Monday evening. That hadn't been exactly what she had expected. Sexy as all get out, though. She'd had chills up her spine when he'd come at her, growling like that. Maybe that bodysuit had been overkill - on the other hand, the meditation that night had been _outstanding_. But that wasn't helping her now - _what_ was she going to wear? It had been very cool, today, foggy. It wasn't likely to be any better tonight. So, maybe some nice slacks and a sweater? They were going to be in that nice Indian restaurant, she wasn't going to wear anything flashy or revealing. She thought, again, running through things she had worn before - that honey colored sweater, she had worn that and he had come right out on the dance floor to her, even though Pike was there. Yes, that was a _good _choice.

***

She answered the door with her coat in her hand and he held it while she slid her arms in, smoothed it down across her shoulders, breathing on her neck, giving her goosebumps _everywhere_. They walked across campus side by side, not touching, his hands behind his back in his customary pose. But he was close, so close, beside her, keeping her warm with his radiated body heat. When they entered the restaurant, the owner recognized them - after all they had been here many times now - and came bustling up to escort them to a booth in the back, out of questioning eyes. He must have seen something different about them tonight because he made a suggestion he had never made before. And so they ate the same dinner that his wife had prepared for their own family that night, more highly spiced than the food on the menu. Spock practically purred with delight, savoring the flavors. She would have to remember that he liked more seasoning than she had been giving him. They lingered over the food, relaxed, happy just being together. Finally they rose, and once again he held her coat, breathing on her neck. The goosebumps were bigger this time, took longer to fade away. Something _different_ was soon to happen.

***

They crossed the campus, back to the building that housed his quarters. Side by side, they climbed the stairs to his floor. At his door, he tapped the touchplate, then waited for her to enter first, stepping in behind her to remove her coat, his hot breath on her ears, her neck, so close. She shivered.

"Are you cold, Nyota?"

"No." she shook, just slightly. "But you could raise the temperature some. I know you turn it down for me, but you don't have to turn it down this far. Remember how warm it was in Africa?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you set it where you would like it?"

She grinned at him and told the computer to reset the temperature, knowing that from now on, the temperature would be set to this setting every time she came here. There was absolutely no reason that he needed to be cold just because he thought that she would prefer a cooler temperature. She had lived in heat all her life.

He took her coat into his bedroom and hung it in the closet. She was still standing in the living room, near the couch. She wasn't sure exactly what he had in mind next.

He came back across the floor, stood so close to her, looking down. "Computer, lights at 50 percent." The lights softened, dimmed. He took her hand in his, causing those little tingly sparks again. He lead her to the couch, drew her down beside him, his eyes never leaving hers. He was so warm against her. She could hardly breathe, she wanted him to kiss her so bad. His arm slid around her shoulders, turning her more towards him, so that the side of her breast brushed against him. She felt her nipples contract and then expand, peaking against the soft cotton of her bra. His other hand rose to touch her temple softly. She felt him then, that spread of warmth that she recognized as distinctly _Spock_, accompanied by definite feelings of _desire, need, apprehension_.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, trying to calm herself, to stay in control. "Are we going to practice control now, Spock?" Her voice was so low, so thick, she almost didn't recognize it.

"Yes." His voice was even deeper, softer, huskier, than hers. His forehead came down until it gently touched hers. For a moment, he held that position, then he rolled his face against hers, his lips brushing down the side of her face, softly, softly tasting her skin, turning her core to liquid heat. In response to the change in her scent, he made a soft noise deep in his chest, a low growl of sound. It echoed in her ears, vibrated through her body, loosening her, making her wet for him. He sniffed. Something changed, he tensed around her, inhaled more deeply. "Nyota" The syllables of her name were elongated, drawn out, deep, vibrating.

"Yes." Whatever he wanted, that was the answer. There was no response. "Spock, you have to talk to me, tell me what you need. I..I can't help if I don't know what the problem is."

"Your scent has changed. Can you explain?" His nose was in her ear, then on the side of her neck, searching.

She quivered as his breath passed over sensitive skin. "Ah, Spock, you.. you're turning me on. You're smelling my response."

He paused. His face returned to hers, his lips ghosting down her cheek again. "What exactly is it that has changed your scent? It is very... compelling." His breath was against the side of her neck now, making goosebumps all over her scalp.

She moaned softly at him as his lips lingered over the sensitive skin on her neck. "Wet. You're making me wet."

"Wet?" His fingers caressed her face, her neck, he sniffed again, his nose in the curve between neck and shoulder. "You are not wet, Nyota, you are perfectly dry."

"Not there." She almost giggled. "Lower." She gasped as his hand trailed down from her shoulder, across her breast, seeking the moisture she described. "Ahh, lower." His hand descended further, brushed the top of her hip, hesitated. Trembled. "Lower. In the center." Her voice was so low now that she could barely hear herself. His hand trailed slowly across her belly, jerky now, moving in little spurts, coming to rest just below her belly button, so hot. "Lower."

He trembled against her. The hand on her shoulder closed briefly in a spasm, gripping too hard for just an instant before releasing again. The hand on her belly did not move. "Nyota, I..I cannot." His voice was so low, so soft, so thick. His face against her neck was so hot. She felt him trembling against her.

"It's okay." Her hands rose, clasped his head, rubbing against the soft, short hairs on his nape. "You don't have to do everything all at once. It's just... you wanted to know."

"Yes." He was silent for a moment, then again he spoke, his face still resting against her. "I wish to know how to please you, Nyota. I..I have very little.. experience in this area. I feel...inadequate." He was still trembling against her.

She ran her hands over him, brushing softly from the back of his head, down his neck, across his back, pulling him softly against her. "You are not inadequate. You are _Spock_ and you are what I want." She tried to control the desire welling within. "We'll get there, Spock, we will. One step at a time. And I wouldn't call myself the most experienced, either. I've been pretty picky about who I let get this close to me." She was quiet again for a moment. "I want to please you, too. I want to learn what you like, as well." She bit her lips, then continued, her voice so low that only his ears could have heard. "I _need_ to please you."

Once again she heard that low growl vibrating through him. Wet, that made her so wet. She moaned softly into his ear. His lips roamed over her neck, his tongue lapped gently against her skin, leaving behind damp patches that chilled when he moved on, increasing the goosebumps. She sighed and shivered. His lips moved up her neck, across her cheek, moved soft across hers. Finally. She moved her lips against his, the tip of her tongue darting out to slide along the crease between his lips, teasing him to open for her. She felt his tongue coming to meet hers, sliding into her mouth, wet, hot. She moaned against him, opening more, wanting to feel him. Her heart was pounding now, trying to match the staccato of his, against her ribs. She tried to breathe, but it was harder and harder. Her hands rose again, caressed the back of his neck, holding him close to her. He growled softly again, his tongue sliding over hers, his lips hot against hers, his fingertips on the side of her face, gentle. Her right hand slid along the side of his neck, fingers finding his earlobe, rising up the curving side of his ear, around the pointed top. He froze against her. Her fingers faltered. _Had she done something wrong_? Then through the fingertips against her face she felt a wave of heat, so hot, so consuming, _lust_ rushing through her, overpowering. Oh, wow! Something very _right_! Very slowly, she caressed that point again, feeling him vibrate against her. And then he was moving, back, away from her, dropping his hands, leaving her alone and bereft. "Spock?" Her voice was still, querulous.

He sat so straight and still, hands clenched into fists on his thighs, face taut, almost panting. She realized he was struggling for control. She inhaled deeply, let it out slowly, trying to settle herself, calm herself. Her ragged breathing slowed, her heart beat settled back to normal. She kept her hands folded in her lap, although she wanted to reach out, to touch, to sooth. But she didn't think he could handle that now. For some reason, as she calmed herself, it seemed to help him. He was still stressed, but not as badly now. His breathing was settling back to normal, his hands, although still in fists, not clenched as tightly. She sat and watched him, not making a sound.

Eventually he sighed, long and slow, and relaxed just enough that she could plainly see it. His hands unclenched and lay flat against his thighs. He turned his face to her, where she sat beside him, turned towards him. "I am sorry, Nyota. I did not know that would happen. It was... Strange... Overpowering." He shook his head. "I am not familiar with this _feeling_." He paused just a moment, collecting himself. "That is not entirely correct. I should have said that I am not familiar with the intensity with which I felt this.. This... I do not know what to call it - but I have been feeling this for some time... And it keeps getting stronger. But it was SO much stronger - it threatened to completely overtake me. I could not control it while you were touching me." His eyes were so dark, so large.

"That's _lust_, Spock. Physical desire. You're _supposed_ to feel that." She spoke quietly, although inside she exulted.

"_That_ is lust. That explains much." His focus was turned inward now, musing. Again his gaze sharpened on her. "I must learn to control this."

"Well, most people struggle with that." There was a bit of laughter in her voice.

"But if I cannot control it... Then I will injure you. And I do _not_ wish to do that."

"Okay, I understand. No ears ... yet."

"Maybe just a little." He leaned towards her again, hands lifting, sliding around her shoulders, pulling her towards him, his face descending to hers again, lips touching softly. "Just a small touch. Practice."


	2. Chapter 2: You're The One That I Want

Author's Note: Countdown : Go for System Ignition.

____________

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Two : You're The One That I Want**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late January 2258**

**Monday 1015**

He sat in his office at his desk, his first class of the semester over. His office felt so empty. He would get used to it again. They had already offered to remove the empty desk, but he had refused. She had sat there, it would stay to remind him. He knew he had made the correct choice - and the events of the three previous evenings certainly enforced that knowledge - nevertheless it was very difficult to sit here without her quiet presence behind him. In a moment he would be able to focus on something, surely. In the meantime, a pleasantly stimulating warmth swept through him as he remembered the way she had nibbled on his ears yesterday evening. It had been very - _educational_. But there was obviously still a need for - _practice_. He felt like he would need practice in that particular stimulation every day possible. It was only logical.

There were footsteps coming down the hall - _her_ footsteps. She was supposed to be elsewhere. His eyes went to the doorway just as she stepped into his office, her face alit. She crossed the small space and sat down in the chair on the other side of his desk, just the way she had so many times, coming into his office to practice conversation in some new language. She pulled a small PADD from her carrybag and laid it in front of him.

"Here's my schedule for this semester. It's almost the same as last semester. The main difference is that instead of a class on Wednesday afternoon, I'll be downstairs in the acoustical engineering lab."

He took the PADD, his fingers brushing fleetingly against hers. His eyes were fastened on her the way a starving man's might fasten on the sight of food.

"And I have a request. Actually a request from the head of the Acoustical Engineering department." She paused, licked her lips, smiled at him. Her eyes were glowing, the expression seemed to be teasing him. He waited. "They don't have any office space upstairs and he was wondering whether you would mind if I kept my desk down here." There wasn't any question in her voice, just light laughter.

"Mind? Why would I mind?" His lips quirked up at her, joy flooding through him. "It seems quite logical to me."

Now she did laugh, softly, her smile spreading wide. "I didn't really think you'd mind much." She rose from the chair, walked around his desk, and settled into her own chair, pulling things out of her carrybag and putting them back on the her desk where they belonged.

***

Once again they discussed power curves and he chose another move and had her demonstrate first the incorrect application of power and then the correct. They danced the first kata again and twice she landed perfect blows, one upon his arm, and one on his shoulder. He was extremely pleased with her. Her work with the dumbbells had definitely increased her strength and her understanding of the application of power was exceptional. Next week he would have her apply force to all the movements of this kata. Of course, he would not use anywhere near the same amount of force towards her. He would only contact her body if she made an incorrect move. And then only lightly. Very carefully. Although he knew that she was already proficient in Human martial combat, knowing that she was also becoming knowledgeable of suus mahna gave him much more confidence in her ability to defend herself when the need inevitably occurred. StarFleet was not a child's playground - there would be many instances where defense was necessary.

***

Tonight Nyota had cooked a dish new to him - something called satay. She had used strips of marinated tofu instead of the more commonly used meat, possibly not entirely successfully, however the fiery sauce made from chilies and peanuts had been quite interesting. It had seemed to be spicier than most of the dishes she had made in the past and he had complemented her on it, hoping that it would recur. He had poured all the remaining sauce over the noodles on his plate. If she had not been there, he might possibly have licked the plate. She had seemed to enjoy the sight of his pleasure with the dish.

She finished wiping off the table and rinsed the cloth she had used, hanging it up to dry. Then she washed her hands and dried them. She walked out of the kitchen, looked on the low table before the couch. "No poetry tonight, Spock?" she looked at him, inquiry plain on her face.

He felt too warm. He had anticipated other activities this evening. Perhaps he had been over confident. As she continued to gaze at him, he felt the tips of his ears grow even warmer. And the skin over his cheekbones, as well. He mumbled something, he was not sure even what language it was.

She crossed the floor to where he stood, standing very close to him. "Maybe you had something else in mind for tonight?" Her voice was soft and low, her hands moving to rest gently against his chest. "Something a little more ... _stimulating_?" Her face was tilted up towards his, her lips so close.

With a low growl, he swept her against his body, claiming her lips with his own. Her tongue swept into his mouth, caressing his, her hands were on the back of his neck again, fingers moving through the short hair there, then the edges of her nails against his skin, drawing lines of fire. His arms tightened about her, bringing her as close as possible, flattening his hands against her body, spreading the force so that all parts of her were pressing hard against him. Again that hot swelling in his lower body. That only happened when she was in his arms. When her body was pressed against his. Although recently there had been indications that it might happen when he thought over the actions that had been occurring here in his quarters in the evenings. It was still not comfortable, but he was growing more used to it. Seemingly as a response to that reaction, she moved her pelvis against his. The reaction of his body was instantaneous - that hot swelling increasing dramatically. She moved against him again, dragging a low moan from her mouth as he lifted his lips from hers, gasping for breath.

One of his hands moved downwards, cupping her little round bottom, pulling her hard against the swelling, wanting _something_. He was not entirely sure _what_ he wanted, but it definitely involved _her_. At the sound of her voice moaning softly at him, the feel of her body moving against his, he began to shake, burying his face against her neck, his mouth moving over the skin there, tasting, nibbling, He swept up the side of her neck, taking her earlobe between his lips, his breath hot in her ear. He felt the shiver sweep over her, saw the tiny bumps on her skin. He could feel her nipples, hard against his chest in the center of her soft breasts. He was burning. His control was slipping. With a ragged breath, he loosened his grasp upon her, tucking his chin on the top of her head and bringing her face down against his neck. He stood, sides heaving, trying to regain control. Her hands slipped down until they rested on his chest again and she stood quietly, not moving, waiting for him.

He drew in a great breath, let it out slowly. The shaking was subsiding. He moved his head down so that the sides of their faces rested against each other, feeling a much stronger sense of her as their temples rested together. He had not done anything that she was not willing to do - he did not feel anything from her to indicate that he had held her too tightly or forced her in any way. He sighed. Perhaps his control _was_ growing.

"Maybe we should sit on the couch?" She was lifting her head, looking at him, and he could feel her concern reaching out to him. He nodded and moved in that direction, settling down in his normal spot. Instead of sitting down beside him as he had anticipated, she turned so that her back was to the gooseneck lamp and sat on his lap, her legs facing down the couch, over the spot where she usually sat. She pulled his left arm around her waist, supporting her, and leaned against him, her face against the side of his neck. She had not done this before. He could feel her all against him, much as she had been last Monday evening during their meditation. But this was different - he could feel her weight on his legs, against his chest. It was quite pleasant. Her left hand laid on top of his and he could feel her through the touch, _happy_, but there was still _excitement _there as well. And, to a lesser degree, that thing that she had identified as _lust_.

He sat there for several minutes, just enjoying the feel of her against him. Then he raised his right hand and cupped it behind her head, gently turning her face up as he bent his down, and began to kiss her again. She sighed against him and drew his bottom lip between her lips and sucked on it. This was new. Then she did something totally unexpected. She bit his lip, just enough that he could feel the edges of her teeth against that sensitive skin before she released it again. His heartbeat accelerated, his temperature rose, that hot swelling was back again, he found himself making that growling noise at her again. Her lips moved against his, making words. "You like that, Spock?"

"Yes" His voice soft, low, husky. "You may do that again." He hesitated, "if you wish.... Please."

She giggled, just a bit, then began to nibble at his jaw, tiny little bites, moving from one side across to the other. He stretched and turned his face to make it easier for her. This was wonderful. Then she moved back to the side closest to her, moving up the side of his face with her lovely soft lips, and bit his earlobe. He moaned. Her teeth continued up the side of his ear until they reached the extremely sensitive point. He turned his head down to give her better access, moaning and growling at her to show how much he liked what she was doing. He could smell her now, that scent she said meant that he had made her wet. He wanted to feel what she was feeling, but the only skin contact he had with her now was the one hand on top of his. His right hand had fallen away from her head and lay on the couch beside him. He raised it to her midriff, skimmed his hand down and found the bottom of her sweater, slipping his hand between it and her slacks, then back up, over the waistband to where the skin of her midriff lay, spreading his hand upon her bare skin there. He felt her reaction, heat spreading throughout her body, sighing, softly moaning, her tongue against his ear, laving softly. And then her right arm, which had been against his chest, moved backwards and her hand was under his shirt, against his back, cooler than his skin, spreading fire along his nerves as she caressed him.

He wanted to feel that hand on his skin. He desperately desired to feel more of _her _skin against _his _hand. The idea of feeling her _skin_ against his _skin_ had him burning, flames sweeping his body, overwhelming his logic. Before he could stop to analyze what he was doing, he had tilted her forward, moving his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulling it off over his head, then pulling her back down against him. Now both of her hands were on his body, one in front and one behind, stroking softly. She turned her face into his chest, nuzzling his body. She was murmuring against him, something about 'yummy hair'? He had never before been glad to have that vee of black hair across his chest, that line arrowing down the center of his body. It was illogical. But as she ran her fingers through it, creating fire everywhere she touched, he suddenly yearned to have his whole body covered with it. She was twisting and turning on his lap, touching everywhere, but he could hardly find any skin to touch - only her face as she kissed and nuzzled against him.

Once again he threw caution to the wind and reached around her, tugging at the hem of her sweater. She raised her face from his body and looked at him, her lovely face flushed, her lips swollen and soft, and then raised her arms. Before she could change her mind, he pulled her sweater over her head. It took him a moment to untangle her hair from the sweater and toss it to the other side of the couch. When he had his hands free and pulled her back against him, he realized that she had done something else while he was busy with her sweater. Her bare breasts brushed against his chest, blazing fire deep within him. He growled at her again, hands sweeping across her skin, shaking, blazing, _wanting_. And she took his hands and laid them there, one hand on each of those glorious breasts. His hands curled around them, so softly, so carefully, shaking with the effort to be gentle. He felt her nipples hard against his palms. He was on fire everywhere, blazing. He was shaking, control about to snap. "Nyota" His voice was thin, shaky. "I.. I... am losing.."

Instantly she was laying against him, nothing moving except her hands, rising to cup the sides of his face, holding him together. Her forehead lay against his and he felt her soothing him, spreading calm throughout. He shuddered in her embrace, pulling control back around him. For long minutes they sat, skin against skin, while he grew used to the feeling. He explored the reactions he was feeling, analyzing them, isolating the troublesome elements, looking at them to see why they troubled him, considering. She did not speak, she did not move, she just held him and soothed him through the link he had established. Her breathing slowed, her temperature fell a bit, that wonderful scent lessened. All these things helped him to reclaim the the control that had fled. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, felt more himself. He slowly moved his hands again, feeling her breasts there waiting for him. That was so wonderful. He sighed, rolled his face against hers, gave her soft kisses, felt her relax and sigh softly.

"More practice needed."

"Much more."

She laughed softly at his words, sliding her hands down his face, around his neck, caressing the short hair on his nape again, her nails gently clenching him, causing little sparks against his skin. He buried his face against her neck, inhaling her scent, letting it fill him, moving his lips against her neck, her shoulder, down the long hard plane of her collarbone, down to the soft curve of her breast. His neck was bent as far as it would go. He let out a small sound of frustration.

"What's the matter?"

"I cannot reach what I wish to. My neck will not bend any further."

Soft laughter, body twisting against him, she moved, drawing up her legs, sliding off his lap onto the couch, laying back, pulling him down over her. He slid his arms down to the couch on either side of her, supporting himself on his forearms, burying his face between her breasts. Her arms were around him, her hands on his back, stroking, soft caresses from his shoulders down his back to his waist, leaving trails of fire on his skin. It was wonderful. He rolled his face to one side and began to explore her breast with his lips and tongue. Soft curves, firm nipple, soft skin, all entranced him. He rolled his head to the other side, continued his exploration there. He sighed, full of happiness.

He could have stayed there all night, touching, kissing, holding her against him, but eventually it registered that it was much later than usual. She must be tired - and she needed to be fresh in the morning, he was not the one who would be demanding her services as aide. He sighed, drew himself up from her, met her eyes. "I need to walk you back to your dorm, Nyota, it is late."

She sighed even deeper than he had. "Yes, I know. But I don't want to go." She smiled at him, her eyes shining. "You found some balance."

"Yes, with your help. It is easier than it was, I think. But more practice is definitely needed." The corners of his mouth quirked up at her. "Much more practice, Nyota." He leaned down, gave her a soft kiss, and then straightened his arms, lifting himself off of her. Carefully he untangled himself from her and rose off the couch, finding her sweater and bra and handing them to her, then pulling his shirt back on. He went to get her coat from his closet, held it for her, then clasped her hand in his and drew her out the door of his quarters.

He was loathe to leave her, leaning his forehead against hers for several moments, his hand caressing the side of her face, before he straightened up, sighing and released her hand, watching her until the door to her building closed behind her. Once again he was aware of a very faint link remaining between them. That was most odd.

**Nyota**

**Tuesday**

He was already on the track when she arrived, pounding around so fast. She loved to watch him run full out, so graceful. She was half way around the track when she heard him behind her, still pounding. He swept past at full speed, "Good Morning, Nyota" floating in the air behind him. She grinned at his back. Once more he swept past her, her return greeting meeting him. The third time, as he approached, his steps slowed, and by the time he was even with her, he was running at her speed. Around the track they went, in total synchronization, running at a smooth, even pace. She had an idea. Slowly she increased her pace until she was running full out. Beside her he matched her pace, long legs flashing. Oh, this was exhilarating. Three times around the track at this pace and she began to slow again, slowly decreasing her pace until she was back at that smooth lope. Her grin was wide.

"Very good, Nyota." Out of the corner of her eye she could see his lips quirked up. She had pleased him. The morning was beautiful.

***

She had gotten to the Linguistics lab early enough to get her favorite carrell, the one with the unobstructed view of his cubbyhole of an office. She had the cheek mike in position, carefully speaking the words displayed before her, when he strode into the lab and crossed to his office, a stack of PADDs in his hands. He was so handsome, so tall and straight and perfect. And it never occurred to him - not once, that people watched and sighed over him. Which was fine with her - she had no intention of sharing. He set the stack of PADDs on his desk and seated himself, raising his eyes and catching hers, raising one eyebrow and quirking his lips up slightly at seeing her sitting there. The evening was beautiful, too.

***

When the last student had thanked her for her help and gathered his things and left the lab, Spock was already going about, checking to see that all the equipment had been properly shut off. She closed down her console, gathered her carrybag and waited for him by the door. He stood next to her, not quite touching, leaned over so that his forehead barely grazed hers. She shivered. She could feel his breath on her skin, so warm.

Softly his voice, so close to her ear. "You do not have to give so much time to the other students, Nyota. You are not aide in this department this semester." Although the words were not endearments, they certainly felt that way, soft and warm.

"But they need the help. There is more than you can handle. I don't mind."

"As you wish, then. Computer, lights out." As the lights faded, he leaned over just a bit more and his lips brushed softly, quickly across hers before he straightened up again. She sighed as she turned towards the door to exit the lab. Then she felt his hand stroke down her back from shoulder to waist, down her hip, over the curve of her buttock, lingering a moment just at the top of her thigh. Goosebumps flooded her body and slightly startled sound escaped her lips. This she had _not_ expected. Beside her he gave a very satisfied small sound. Proud of himself, was he? She could not help the smile that curved her lips.

They walked across the almost deserted campus, down the familiar pathway, beside each other, not quite touching, content. They spoke softly of this and that, in whatever language came to mind, happy just to hear the other's voice. When they reached her building, they stopped and he leaned over her again, just touching his forehead to hers, one long finger ghosting softly down the side of her face. He drew that finger across her cheek, across the seam between her lips. Her lips parted and closed again, drawing the fingertip into her mouth, her tongue grazing along the sensitive tip. Heat flashed through him. He inhaled sharply. He remembered another night when she had done this, when he had not understood the feelings that had engulfed him when she did so.

"Nyota." His voice was so soft, so low she only heard it because she stood so close to him. She bit lightly against his fingertip, getting another sharp gasp, then opened her mouth enough to release the pressure. His finger gently caressed her lips as it moved away from her. Slowly he straightened up, sighing so very softly. "I shall see you on the track in the morning."

"Yes, I'll be there, Spock." Then she was turning, going inside, leaving a tiny, tiny piece of herself behind with him, to guard him until she saw him again.


	3. Chapter 3: Do That To Me One More Time

Author's Note: Countdown : Go for Main Engine Start.

____________

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Three : Do That To Me One More Time**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**End of January 2258**

**Friday**

She was sitting behind him when she got the message. He heard her quick reply, saying she would report immediately. She began to organize the things on her desk, gathering up her belongings, stuffing things into her carrybag. He swiveled around to face her.

"I've just been ordered to some new simulation. I have 15 minutes to report. I don't know how long this will be -- I don't know where I'm going or anything." She bit her lip. "I don't even have time to take my bag back to the dorm."

He reached out, retrieved her carrybag from her hand and set it on the floor beside his briefcase. "If you do not return for it, I will deliver it to your roommate when I leave this afternoon. Do not worry about it." He reached out with one hand and touched her, just briefly. "Do not worry, Nyota. You will do well. I am confident in your capability."

She smiled at him and he felt her warmth within. He had pleased her, he was getting better at telling her how he felt about her, it continued to get easier as he learned how to express himself. Only with her.

"I don't know how long this will last - it might only be a few hours."

"Or it might be all weekend."

"Yes." She sighed. "I'll call you when I get back. Somehow I don't think we'll be going to that holovid tonight."

Disappointment flooded him. This was illogical. If they did not go tonight, there would be another time. But he had anticipated spending the evening with her. He suppressed these feelings, not wanting to let them show, needing to display to her the knowledge that orders came first, duty came first. "I will await your call." He paused, looking at her. "No matter what the time is, Nyota." These last words were softer, spoken in a much lower tone.

She glanced towards the hall, bent quickly and brushed her lips across his forehead, and then she was gone.

**Saturday**

He pounded around the track alone. He ran full out, as hard as he could, trying to subdue the feelings of loneliness. It did not work. He jogged back to his quarters, taking the stairs two at a time, entered his quarters and went straight to the shower. Setting the controls as hot and hard as possible, he stood under the pounding water, steam all about him, and ached for her.

***

He did not sleep well. After two hours of alternately tossing about and staring at the ceiling, he gave up. He went to his com unit and accessed the Academy schedule, trying to find any information about the simulation she was participating in. He could find nothing. Something new then, not a regular scheduled event. Something experimental, perhaps? He tried other searches, other areas, looking now as much for missing information as for explicitly stated items. Looking for omissions where there should be information. Finally, he found what he was looking for. Yes, experimental, a handful of exceptional students selected, not physically dangerous (he breathed a long sigh of relief at that), but stressful, challenging. She would be enjoying it, then. And stressed. And totally exhausted when it was over. But there was very little chance of injury, which was a distinct relief. But very little chance that she would be released before late this evening. There was almost no chance that he would see her before Monday morning. He sighed. But his mind was easier, and he went back to the bed in the soft light of early morning and slept.

**Sunday**

It was late, almost midnight, and still there was no message from her. She would be tired in the morning. He had hoped to hear from her before now. He sighed, rose and carried his empty tea cup to the kitchen, rinsed it, turned it over in the drainer beside the sink. Heard the door open behind him, turned to see her there, coming quickly across the floor toward him, opened his arms and pulled her close to him, so relieved to have her back in his arms. His world was level again.

It was too late for him to keep her here, no matter how much he wanted to. After too short a time of holding and tasting and touching, he knew he must walk her to her dorm, so that she could sleep. Tomorrow would be enough time for her to tell him all about the events of the weekend. With a deep sigh, he untangled himself from her, lifted himself from the couch, and pulled her upright. Her face was all flushed, her lips swollen from his kisses, her hair coming loose from its fastening. She was beautiful. He leaned forward just enough that his forehead touched hers, sighing. "You are beautiful, Nyota."

She sighed as well, smiling widely at him. "I'm so glad you think so, Spock. But right now I just feel exhausted. I think I could just curl up right here and go to sleep."

The temptation was great. However, that would be _highly_ improper. They were already on the verge of what was allowed by regulation - in the grey area. He would not endanger her career. He shook his head at her and she nodded. She knew that was not possible. He captured her hand, interlacing their fingers, palms together, and led her out the door, down the hall, along the pathway to her own building, waiting until she was inside to turn back to his own quarters, feeling the connection with her fading down to a tiny spark - one that never quite seemed to go away. He still couldn't figure out how that was happening.

**Nyota**

**Monday**

The alarm was going off, but she was still so tired. She had definitely not had enough sleep. But if she was not on the track, he would worry. So she dragged herself out of bed and pulled on her sweats and running shoes and was out the door, jogging down the path to the track in just a few minutes. She had not reached the track yet when she heard him behind her.

He pulled even with her, speaking just loud enough for her to hear. "You should have slept in this morning, you did not get enough sleep."

"And if I had, you would be at my door, checking to see whether I was sick."

He was quiet until they were moving into the tunnel, almost to the track. "You are correct, as usual, Nyota."

"I didn't want you to worry. And I'm so used to starting my morning this way - I would have been off all day without it."

"We will run then." And with that he picked up the pace, changing from a jog to a run, pushing her to keep up. He gradually increased the pace until she was running full out, stretching her legs, breathing deep and fast, feeling the glow as her muscles warmed up. This was so good.

***

She walked into the office, arms full of PADDs and crossed to her desk. There was a cup of tea, steaming, sitting there. He must have just made it. She set the PADDs down, turned just enough that she could reach the short distance to where he sat, and ran her fingers softly across the back of his neck, suppressing a grin when she saw his ears twitch. Then she sat down, took the first PADD, and began to read the student's paper while she sipped her tea.

***

It was her week to cook. She was going to try something new, based on her recent discoveries of his love of _very_ highly spiced foods. How she had missed this before, she wasn't sure. Possibly he just didn't feel comfortable with the fact that he _had_ favorite foods. It was probably illogical. She walked down the aisle, adding things to her cart - a pouch of mashed beans, a container of sliced peppers - very, very hot peppers, another container of sliced black olives, shredded cheese, crisp rounds of fried corn paste, and a jar of a condiment she was sure she had never seen in his kitchen. He was in for a real surprise - a recipe she had found in a very old cookbook. She added some salad greens - something crisp and bland to offset the fiery sharpness of the other foods.

**Spock**

He watched closely as she assembled the various food items into something he had never seen before. His mouth watered at the smell of the peppers she had opened. He watched her cover two plates with the crisp yellow wafers, then open the warmed pouch of mashed brown vegetables and spoon the paste over the wafers. Then she scattered the olive slices over the top and next added the spicy pepper slices, using a fork. He noticed she was careful not to get the liquid from the pepper pouch on her fingers. Next she spooned something tomato-based with chunks of some sort of other vegetables in it over the top. She covered the top of the whole plate liberally with the grated cheese and popped both plates into the oven for a few minutes while she made two salads. She handed him the salad bowls to set on the table. His stomach grumbled loudly. She giggled. He opened the fridge and took out the two bottles of beer she had brought with her, looking at the label. A good flavor in this one, he had had it before. He opened the bottles and set them on the table and turned in time for her to hand him one of the hot plates, the edge wrapped in a napkin. Taking it carefully so that neither of them burned their fingers, he set it on the table. She came around behind him, setting the other plate down, and they sat down to eat. He watched to see how she ate this new food. She took her fork and slid it under one of the round crisps, lifting carefully, untangling the strands of melted cheese, then popped the whole thing into her mouth. He copied her actions carefully. Such a remarkable blend of flavors! Soft, creamy cheese, smooth beans, sharp, acid peppers, crunchy corn - he was entranced. He dipped his fork for another.

**Nyota**

She watched him consume one bite after another, not stopping until his entire plate was clean, even scraping up the bits left behind with the side of his fork. She wasn't even half finished yet. She grinned at his obvious unhappiness at having finished all the spicy food. He looked at his salad, sighed, and ate that, too. Then he looked at her. She still had several of the small rounds on her plate. She looked at the pleading look on his face and laughed out loud, pushing her plate across the table to him. He wasted no time in finishing off the remainder of the food. Then he thought to ask what it was and rolled the strange word around on his tongue.

"Can we please have these _nachos_ again soon, Nyota?"

***

He asked her about the simulation and she said she could not talk about it. All the cadets involved had had to sign a paper, saying they would not discuss it without permission. He had to be content with that, but wished she could have talked to him about it.

***

When she would have poured the remaining liquid from the pepper pouch down the drain, he stopped her. He carefully took the pouch and poured the liquid into a container and set it in the fridge. She couldn't help laughing.

***

Tonight he had a very small book of poetry to read to her. She settled down beside him, his right arm around her shoulders, her head resting on his chest, her hands on his right thigh, resting softly. His soft, deep voice read the short poems to her - very erotic poems. She tingled inside, listening to his voice reading those declarations. He obviously understood those poems now, although he had said some time ago that he did not understand why this type of poetry was considered _different_. She wiggled a bit against him, feeling herself respond to both his voice and the content of the poetry. She wondered how reading that poetry made _him_ feel. Her fingers began to draw little designs on his leg, tracing gently against him, giving her an outlet for the energy she suddenly felt filled with.

**Spock**

He had carefully selected the poems to read to her tonight. From his research on human mating customs and arousal in the human female, he had deduced that words were often important and that human females were often aroused by reading erotic fiction. Therefore he was reading erotic poetry to her. He _did_ want her aroused. As he read, he noticed that her temperature slowly climbed. Her heartbeat slowly increased. She developed some little muscle twitches. These were all good indicators, things he remembered from his research. And then she started moving her fingers on the top of his right thigh, drawing little lines and circles, lightly caressing his leg through the fabric of his slacks. This had an amazing effect on him, making it very difficult for him to control his voice. He felt that hot swelling begin again - and it was impossible to subdue, as she continued to stimulate that patch of skin on his leg.

Eventually he could ignore it no longer. He closed the book and set it down on the small table at the end of the couch. "Nyota, _why_ are you doing that to my leg?"

"What?" She raised her face towards him, startled.

"That - with your fingers - on my thigh. It is most distracting."

She turned her face down to focus on her fingers, there on his leg. "Oh, well, I .. Um... Uh."

He waited, but she didn't say anything else. "That is not an answer, Nyota."

"Well, I guess I don't _have_ an answer. I mean, it wasn't anything I even realized I was doing." She lifted her hands from his leg, moving them into her own lap.

His leg felt - abandoned, bereft. Illogically, he found himself lifting her hands and putting them back on his leg. She looked up at him again, confused. "I did not mean for you to stop." He was confused as well. "I was just... trying to determine whether this was a planned activity. Whether this was perhaps a test of my control." He faltered, unsure of how to continue.

Now she smiled at him. "No, Spock, not a test. It was just I was so full of ... energy... from what you were reading... I just needed to _do _something."

"Then this - touching - was a reaction to the content of the poetry?"

"Yes, I think that's a good interpretation of my actions." She nodded her head. "Yes, a reaction, definitely."

He picked up the book again, found his place and continued to read. She giggled and snuggled up against him, her hands definitely moving against his leg with purpose now. As he continued to read, she stroked the top of his thigh with one slender finger, starting at his knee and moving up his leg until she was next to his body. Then she stopped. The reading faltered. She picked her hand up and set it down on his knee. He drew in a deep breath and started reading again. She moved her other hand down to his knee, extended one finger, and slowly drew it down his leg, more to the inside of his thigh this time, moving so slowly. His breathing was becoming quite erratic now. As her finger moved closer to his body, he found that his heart was beating faster - much faster. Her finger was now approaching that hot swelling. She stopped, laid her hand flat on his leg, almost touching that swelling, but not quite. His breath felt like it was strangling him. She raised her right hand off of his knee, trailed her fingers down his leg, even more towards the inside, almost touching the other leg as well. Her eyes were trained on his body, watching him. He attempted to read the next stanza of the poem, but for some reason, his eyes would not focus on the page. They kept sliding to watch her fingers, slowly, slowly trailing up his leg. As he watched, unable to think of anything except her cool fingers, they reached her left hand, resting there on top of his right leg, up against his abdomen, and dipped down, around the ends of her fingers, in the dip between his legs, and then lightly, so lightly, stroked up that hot swollen part of him.

He jerked. He gasped. The book flew out of his hands and landed on the floor. His right hand descended to her back and grabbed at her. Maybe too hard. His left hand clenched in the air, tight, then unfurled and reached across, clasping her right shoulder. Probably also too hard. He had little control over his actions. He held her there, not sure what to do. She was very still. He panted. He slowly released the pressure of his hands until they were resting lightly against her. She lifted her right hand from his body, just a short distance, but not touching any more. He could not help it, he made a small noise of distress. Her hand descended again, her fingers lightly stroked again, top to bottom this time, lingering. He moaned. Nothing had prepared him for the sensations that light touch had caused. She ran her fingers up that swollen length once again, then laid her hand flat against him, never taking her eyes off what she was doing. He growled at her, shaking. He was incapable of speaking.

"Spock" Her voice was soft, light, far away. "Spock, what do you want me to do now?" Her face lifted up to his, her eyes wide, dark.

She wanted him to tell her what to do? She had not asked before now. He did not know what to tell her. That cool hand pressed to his body had all his attention.

"Spock. Spock, can you hear me?" Her face was close to his now, her eyes looking straight into his.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He moistened his dry lips with the tip of his tongue. He burned, he was flame everywhere. Somehow, he still had control. Since the first panicked grab at her, he had not moved. Her face was there so close. He bent his head and found her lips, his moving against hers, his tongue gliding against hers, his breath mingling with hers, her hand gently closing about him. He growled, low, husky, vibrating. Her other hand moved up his body, leaving trails of fire even through his clothing, and found the tip of his right ear, stroking, pinching lightly. He surged up, turning, pushing her down on the couch, moving over her so his body covered hers, his face buried against her neck, his heart slamming against the side of his ribcage. He shook, burning. Her arms were around him, holding him, soothing him. Her voice was soft in his ear, her presence within soothing, cooling, caressing, _loving_ him.

He pushed his face closer against her neck, trying to find more skin. He desperately needed to touch more of her skin, to have her touch more of his. He needed to enhance the connection between them. He moaned softly against her neck, trying to tell her what he needed. Through the link between them, he felt her understanding that he needed _something_, but he also felt _confusion_.

"Spock, tell me what you need. Please, Spock, tell me."

"Skin." He managed to get that one word out.

Immediately her hands were at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up his body until it was crumpled at his armpits. Then he felt her cool hands at one wrist, pulling on the sleeve until his hand disappeared inside. Understanding what she was doing, he folded his arm down out of the sleeve, bringing it back up the side of her body and under her shoulder when it was free of the shirt. Then her hands were at the other wrist, repeating her actions. When the shirt was bunched around his neck, she pulled it up over the back of his head.

"Lift your head, Spock, just for a moment." When he did, she pulled the shirt out from under him and dropped it over the edge of the couch onto the floor. Then her hands were on his back, stroking, sliding down, soothing.

He sighed. This was better. "More skin." He mumbled against her neck.

She didn't hesitate at all, but reached down to the hem of her sweater and started tugging it upwards, arching her body beneath him to free it. Raising her left arm over his body, she grasped the cuff of the right sleeve and maneuvered her arm free, repeating the actions on the other sleeve. "Lift your face again, Spock, so that I can get it free."

Once again he lifted his head from her neck, and she quickly pulled the sweater up and over her head, tossing it to the floor beside his. She put both hands on his back again, caressing him. He rolled his face down her neck, feeling the hard ridge of her collar bone against his chin. But he could not feel her breasts against his chest - there was still fabric there. His hands, which had been flat beneath her shoulders, moved under her back, finding the clasp of her bra and quickly undoing it, pulling the fabric out to the sides, sliding the straps down off her shoulders. He tugged with his left hand, trying to remove it entirely, but it was trapped between their two bodies. Heaving an exasperated sigh, he raised himself enough to free the unwanted garment and added it to the growing pile on the floor. _Now_ he could feel her. Cool skin against his, soft swelling breasts against his chest, nipples harder, this was definitely better. With the added skin-to-skin contact he felt so much calmer. He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, centering himself.

With hands flat under her shoulders again, he levered his head and upper shoulders into the air high enough that he could see her eyes. "Better." She was smiling at him. That was very good. "More skin contact is better, my control is better. Although that does not seem to make much sense, it is true."

"Okay." She was suddenly moving beneath him, contorting her body. What was she doing? Her hands brushed against his hips and she lifted beneath him, putting pressure on that hard, hot swelling - pressure that felt _wonderful_ - and then she bent her right knee and reached down and pulled on the leg of her slacks. Suddenly understanding what she was doing, he almost froze. He took a deep breath, and then, when she bent her other knee, he reached down and helped her. He lifted first one leg and then the other, pulling the fabric across, dropping her slacks onto the floor. He ran his hands down her bare legs - oh, this was _very_ nice. Then he realized that she had not stopped - that her hands were at the fastening of _his_ slacks. She was pushing against him with the backs of her hands, trying to get space to work. Holding his breath, he lifted himself just enough to give her room. He felt her hands brushing against him as she unsealed the front and pulled the sides apart. Then her hands were moving around the back, pulling his slacks down over his buttocks, her hands sliding against him. He was covered in trails of fire left by her hands. Now she was trying to push his slacks down his legs, but her arms weren't long enough.

"Help me, Spock, I can't reach far enough."

He bent and twisted, raising first one knee and then the other, finally kicking free of the entangling cloth. When he rolled back over her, settling himself in the cradle of her body, she lifted her feet, sliding them over his calves, and set them down on the couch between his knees, her legs wound around his, holding him close to her. Everywhere she was touching him - only two small garments separating them from being completely touching skin to skin. He was ecstatic. He had not anticipated this. It was wonderful. He bent his head and took one rosy brown nipple in his mouth, massaging it with lips and tongue and teeth until she moaned and sobbed against him. He rolled his head to the other breast and assaulted that nipple until she was shaking beneath him. He lifted his face to hers and found her mouth again, claiming it with lips and tongue and teeth, until she was again moaning and arching beneath him, that lovely scent that she identified as 'wet' filling his nose. This was _very_ good.

He trailed kisses down her neck, biting gently where her neck curved into her shoulder. She tilted her head sideways, stretching out her neck for him, moaning, pushing up with her body against him. He felt more pressure against that hot swelling. She rolled her hips against him, tilting her pelvis, pushing against him, moaning in his ear, turning her head enough to find the tip of his ear and bite, harder than before. He growled, low in his throat, and surged against her, feeling _wet_ against that swelling. He pushed down against her again and felt her suddenly arch upward, her body taut, muscles all straining as she yelled at him. "Ah, Spock!" and then she was shaking and her arms and legs were so tight, holding him so close against her and she was gasping and shuddering and that _wet_ was _very wet _against him. And then she just collapsed, everything relaxed at once and lay there beneath him panting and smelling _so_ good. And she was smiling and laughing softly and so _happy_.

He looked down at her face. Her eyes were wide and dark and soft, glowing at him. All the muscles of her face were relaxed and soft. He had never seen exactly that look about her before, but he found he liked it very much. He wasn't sure what it was that he had done to her, but she apparently liked it very much. But she didn't seem to be interested in continuing the kissing now and he _really _would like to kiss her some more. She wasn't even stroking his back anymore, her arms laying loose, her hands resting easily against him. He felt... What? Irritated? No, frustrated? That was closer. He wasn't _finished_, but she had stopped. "Nyota.." He stopped, not sure what he wanted to say.

"Thank you, Spock." She gave him a brilliant smile. He was confused.

"Why are you thanking me? And why have you stopped kissing me? I... I would like more kissing, please, Nyota."

"Okay, my turn, then, that's fair."

_Her turn? Fair? _He needed her to explain what she meant, but she was moving, pushing against him, making him roll over as she exchanged places with him, stretching out over him as he lay on his back. She began to kiss him, covering his face with kisses, nibbling on his ears, his neck, biting gently on his shoulders, moving down his body, finding _his_ nipples, sucking, biting, licking. He was on fire, flaming all over, moaning and growling at her, unable to stop. And she continued down his body, trailing kisses down the arrow of dark hair that ran down the center of his chest, rubbing it with her fingers. And then her hands were moving over that hot swelling, caressing, touching. And then tugging at his underwear, freeing him, touching his skin, _there_. He pushed upwards with his hips, pushing himself into her hands, wanting _more_. He breathed her name, on fire,_ wanting_. And she began to kiss him softly, moving down that hot swollen length, her cool lips setting him on fire. He found himself begging "Please, please, Nyota." He didn't know what he was begging for, but whatever it was, she must give it to him. And then her mouth opened and took him inside and closed about him and it was the most wonderful thing in the world and her tongue was swirling around the swollen end of him and she was _sucking_ on him and he exploded.

Some tiny little part of him sat back and watched, recording everything for future consideration. The rest of him just reacted. Muscles clenching, back arched, growling, yelling her name, flames consuming him - for the first time in his entire life, he just _reacted_. The ecstasy was totally unexpected. And it lasted and lasted, rolling over him in waves. Just as he was beginning to settle down, she rolled her tongue over him again, licking away moisture she had missed and he convulsed again. She giggled.

He lay on the couch, all his muscles turned to jelly, panting. She stretched out, partially on top of him, and partially beside him, right on the edge of the couch. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her so that she did not roll off the couch onto the floor. He brought his other arm over his body to clasp her closer against him. She snuggled up, her face in the curve between his neck and his shoulder, her breath against his skin, and sighed. _Happy_, she was so _happy_. He felt like he could lay there forever, so relaxed, with her there, all pressed against him. This was _more_ than wonderful.

Eventually she stirred against him. He thought maybe she had drifted off to sleep for a short while, but he hadn't wanted to move, to wake her, to end this wonder. 'What time is it, Spock?"

His voice was soft, cherishing. "Time that we must get up and dress so that I can walk you back to your dorm, Nyota."

She sighed, a long, long sigh. "Okay." And then she was rising up from against him, careful not to fall, holding his hands to steady herself until she had her feet firmly on the floor. She sorted through the randomly tossed clothing on the floor, handing him his things and then she covered her lovely body back up. She stretched and twisted when she had dressed, then yawned widely. "Oh, I'm going to sleep so good tonight." She gave him another blinding smile and made a little sound, satisfied. She crossed the room to the bedroom and got her coat out of the closet, bringing his to him, waiting for him with her hand outstretched to be held close in his as they started across the campus.

When they stood before her building, he did not want to let her go in. He did not want this night to end yet. They stood close together, foreheads touching, savoring the connection, the _feel_ of the other. And then, as one, they sighed and separated and she turned and entered her dorm. He felt that tiny spark of connection, still there, and wondered about it again, but still had no answer. He returned to his quarters, but before going to bed, he activated his com unit and did some more research.


	4. Chapter 4: Light My Fire

Author's Note: Countdown : Ignition.

____________

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Four : Light My Fire**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early February 2258**

**Wednesday**

She walked out of the Chorale practice room, talking to friends, waving to them as they all separated, going down different paths to their quarters. She found herself the only one going down the particular path she had chosen, at least for a short distance. Then she found she had a familiar warm body walking beside her. She turned her head and smiled up at him. "Where did you come from?"

"It is quite dark outside. I thought you should have an escort."

There was a light, almost teasing tone to his voice. Maybe no one else would have heard it, but she did. She moved her hand sideways and curled the first two fingers of her hand against his. Familiar warmth stole over her. "Hmm. Yes, always. Never can tell when a squadron of Klingons is going to jump out of the bushes at you."

One dark, slanted eyebrow rose high on his face. The corners of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly. "Only one squadron? You should be able to handle that by yourself, surely?"

She giggled. He was getting better at this. The time she had devoted to explaining humor to him was paying off. Practice did help. And thinking of _practice_ reminded her of the things they had been practicing lately. She felt herself growing warm at the memories. Some of that must have leaked across the connection between them, because she heard him make a very small growl, low in his throat.

"Nyota." Slightly chiding.

She sighed. "Sorry, that just sort of slipped out."

They walked along the pathway, content to walk silently tonight, the warmth shared through their linked fingers enough. They had almost reached her building when she felt him tug her off the pathway, towards a small clump of trees. She raised her eyebrows, now, questioning. He quirked the corners of his mouth at her again. She followed, curious to see what he had in mind. Through the trees he led, into the shadows. When he reached the spot he had selected earlier, he stopped, pulling her up against him.

"I take it this spot is not visible from any of the pathways?" Her voice was low, trembling with laughter.

"Once again, you have stated an obvious fact, Nyota." He almost purred in her ear, rubbing his face against hers. His hands stroked her back, he sighed.

She sighed back. This was so nice. She had not expected to see him at all this evening. She moved against him, rubbing, feeling him respond. He growled, low, as his lips found hers, tasting softly, his tongue gliding out to tease her. One of her hands rose, sliding up his neck, fingers caressing the edge of his ear, sliding over the pointed top, making him moan, so softly, against her mouth.

A few more caresses, a few more kisses, and they were both panting. She turned her face away and buried it against his neck, trying to calm herself down. His chin rested on the crown on her head, his breath warm on her scalp. He inhaled slowly, deeply, seeking calm again.

"Practice."

She giggled then, relieving stress. 'Oh, Spock!"

"Much practice is necessary to achieve the proper level of control." Once again she heard the humor lurking there, hiding in his almost level tone.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"I could make a list.." She was giggling again, he could feel the vibrations against his chest, the puffs of breath against his neck. "Or was that a rhetorical question?"

She lifted her face to his, giving him one of her blinding smiles. "That might be an interesting list to have. This was nice, Spock." She straightened up a little, separating their bodies just slightly. "But, unfortunately, I need to get to bed because practice let out later than usual." She sighed a bit. "I have _such_ a stack of PADDS to grade tomorrow."

He dropped his arms from around her, retrieved her fingers, and led her back to the pathway, on to her dorm. He cupped her face gently for a moment, resting his forehead against hers, and then straightened up, releasing her, watching her turn and enter her dorm. He walked back to his quarters, his lips quirked up in that small smile he was wearing more and more often.

**Thursday**

When she walked into the message array lab he was already there and the team they were to relieve had already left. She closed the door behind her carefully, checking to be sure that it was latched, then crossed the room to stand behind his chair, grinning to herself. She reached out with both hands and caught the tips of both ears, sliding her fingers up and down the sensitive edges. He hissed. His hands froze on the controls on the console before him, then raised slowly to catch her wrists.

"Nyota!"

"How did you know it was me?" Laughter filled her voice. She leaned forward and kissed his temple, still caressing his ears.

"No one else smells like you. Nor would anyone else be so presumptuous." He growled softly at her. "This is not wise, Nyota."

"I just wanted to say hello, Spock." With a great sense of satisfaction, she released him and seated herself in the other chair. Only to find herself lifted bodily onto his lap and claimed with a deep kiss that completely took her breath away. And then deposited back into her own chair, heart thundering. _Guess two can play that game_. She checked her console, now completely hot and bothered. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the barely concealed smirk on his face.

***

When they were relieved by the next shift, they walked slowly across the campus in the foggy dark, the lights hazily obscured by the mist. Their fingers were hooked together, but otherwise they did not touch, nor did they speak, the feelings flowing between them through their linked fingers sufficient tonight. When they reached that small clump of trees near her building, once again he tugged her in that direction. Tonight she went smiling, knowing what awaited. He pulled her against him, mouth hungry, tongue teasing, hands roaming, so much more confident that he had been just a few short weeks ago. In no time at all she was panting and moaning, moving against him, so hot. His face burrowed against her neck, searching for skin.

"Your jacket collar is much too high." He was frustrated. He turned to her ear, tugging at the earlobe, his hot breath in her ear, exciting, causing goosebumps all over her body. He ran his hands down her back, over her hips, down to the hem of her uniform skirt, then up under it, cupping her bottom in his hands, pulling her closer to him. His voice, low and deep, rumbling, turned her to fire. "Can you feel how I desire you, Nyota?" He pulled her even closer, his hands kneading her bottom, setting her ablaze.

"Ah, Spock, oh... " She couldn't think, she wanted him so bad. Her hands wound around the nape of his neck, pulling at the short hairs there, digging her short nails into his skin, making him gasp and growl at her. She shook against him, so aroused she would have engulfed him right there in only a moment more.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on whose viewpoint events were viewed from, at that moment they heard voices coming in their direction. He froze, then moved his hands, pulling her face down against his chest, hiding her identity. He turned his face down onto the top of her head. They stood so silent, not moving, until the group of inebriated cadets passed down the pathway. Then they both straightened up, breathing deeply, struggling for composure.

"I am sorry, Nyota. That was inappropriate behavior."

"Spock, it was both of us. Don't blame yourself."

"But I must be responsible for you. It is my duty." He heaved a deep sigh, brushed his lips softly across her forehead, and led her back to the pathway, on to her dorm, not noticing the strange look on her face.

**Spock**

**Friday Morning**

Nyota had just finished making tea when her com link chimed with a message. Spock could not help but overhear as some male cadet begged her to be on his crew for the Kobayashi Maru simulation.

"It will have to be on a Friday afternoon because that's all the free time I have. If you can get it scheduled that way, I'll help."

"Great, thanks, Uhura, I'll get back to you as soon as I get it scheduled." and the young man signed off.

Not ten minutes later, there was another similar conversation. Nyota grumbled after the call was over. She had so much work of her own to do, she didn't really have time for all those extra simulations. On the other hand, they were good experience.

Fifteen minutes later the third request came through, and another twenty minutes after that. When her com link chimed again, she reacted with irritation. "What, are all you guys standing around in a circle deciding who gets to call me next? No more, Okay! Four is all I'm going to schedule."

There was silence from the other end of the conversation for a minute, then muttered apologies. "But we all just want the very best cadet in the whole Communications track on our team - and that's you!"

He was glad it was almost noon, because she was definitely out of sorts now. She didn't need any more interruptions to her work. He was trying, once again, to concentrate on the paper he was reading when he heard her low voice behind him.

"Spock, can you please help me calm down? I am just so irritated and edgy."

He swiveled his chair around, so that he faced her. She was facing him, her elbows on her thighs, her hands dangling between her knees. She looked absolutely miserable, her face all pinched. Immediately, he reached towards her, clasping her hands between his, initiating the link between them, sending _calm, peace_ towards her. He remembered how she had helped him regain his control when he was so close to losing it and tried to do the same for her. As he watched, the lines slowly smoothed from her face and the tension in her shoulders eased.

She sighed softly. "oh, that's better. Thanks." She raised her chin and looked at him, a very small smile starting. "They're just driving me crazy!"

"But you handled them well, Nyota. You informed them that you would not schedule any more simulations at this time. They should leave you alone now."

"Yeah, right. Spock, you forget that most humans are not at all logical. Some of those guys will probably just try a lot harder now, bother me even more."

He cocked his head, his eyes unfocused for a moment, then looked at her again. "You could make a recording, telling them that they must come apply in person during office hours. I would be here to intercede."

She looked at him for a moment. "Spock, you don't want half the command track traipsing through your office next week! But thanks for the offer." Her smile was wider now, much of the tension relieved.

He took advantage of their position and her improved temperament to mention their plans for the evening. "That holovid that was recommended is still playing, if you would like to see it this evening. And the theatre is very close to the pizza place you heard about." He waited for her response.

"Okay, that sounds good to me. I will be ready at 1700 - and hungry." Now she grinned at him.

He quirked his mouth at her and let her feel his pleasure at her reply through the link before dropping her hands and turning back to the paper on his desk.

She switched off all her equipment for the weekend, gathered up her belongings, and left the office, brushing her fingers against the back of his neck just briefly on her way out. Behind her, his lips quirked up again.

***

They walked across the campus in a direction they didn't often go, found the pizza place and ordered a large vegetarian pizza. They didn't order any beer, because this place only had a very poor quality draft beer. Instead they had bottled water. The waiter thought they were weird, especially since they kept talking in some strange language full of squeaks and whistles. After finishing their mediocre pizza and deciding that they needed to find a different place next time, they walked the block to the theatre and stood in line to buy tickets. Inside the lobby, they found only a short line before the concession stand.

Nyota immediately went to stand in line. He couldn't figure out why. "We just ate, Nyota. Why are you going to buy more food?"

"But it's _popcorn_, Spock! You have to have popcorn when you watch a vid. With lots of salt and greasy butter-stuff." Her smile was big and wide. He didn't understand _why_ she wanted it, but he was not going to deny her. Once they had the large bucket of popcorn, they went into the semi-darkened theatre to find seats. Nyota threaded her way down the back row of seats, right to the middle of the row and settled down with the popcorn in her lap. Spock sat next to her. The seats were fairly small and very close together. Their shoulders pushed against each other. Spock was trying to figure out how to resolve the crowding problem when Nyota leaned over to him. "Spock, you're supposed to put your arm around my shoulders."

He looked down at her, thinking she was teasing him. Her eyes _were_ sparkling. He looked around the theatre. Sure enough, most of the young men had their arms over the backs of chairs containing young women. He lifted his arm and draped it over the back of Nyota's chair, resting his hand lightly on her shoulder. About this time, the lights went out. Good, no one would be able to see if he caressed her ear.

The holovid started and Nyota began to fish popcorn out of the bucket and nibble on it. Spock was so fascinated by her behavior that he totally lost track of the story on the screen, which looked pretty illogical anyway. Eventually Nyota realized that he was watching her eat the popcorn. Misunderstanding why, she reached into the bucket, retrieved several kernels, and turned her wrist and stuffed them in his mouth. He was taken completely by surprise. He did like the feel of her fingers on his lips, but now he had a mouthful of salty, greasy popcorn. There was nothing for it, but to chew. He chewed all the popcorn up and swallowed it. Before he knew what was happening, Nyota was stuffing more popcorn in his mouth. He wasn't sure that he wanted any more, but it was already in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. He opened his mouth to tell Nyota not to give him any more and she stuffed more popcorn in. He chewed this mouthful more slowly, beginning to actually taste what he was eating. It wasn't what he had expected. He was very surprised at the taste. It was actually almost interesting. He swallowed the last of the popcorn, and there were Nyota's fingers with more. This was fascinating. How did she know when his mouth was empty? He began to consider all the factors in her behavior. He found himself chewing and swallowing absently, mind focused on the problem. It was totally unexpected when she whispered to him that the bucket was empty. How much popcorn had he eaten?

***

When the vid was over and the lights came on, they filed out of the theatre and started back towards the campus. With no hesitation, both headed for his quarters. The corners of his mouth turned up happily. More practice would soon occur.

When they entered his quarters, he took her jacket and crossed to hang it in his closet, along with his. He turned to find her right behind him.

"Spock, I have a suggestion." She stopped, looking at him, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth.

_What was she thinking? _ "Yes, Nyota. What is your suggestion?"

"Well, I thought maybe you would want to hang the rest of my clothes up, too." She stood there, eyes wide, waiting for his response.

His nostrils flared, his heartbeat accelerated. He opened his mouth to answer and heard words he had not intended to say. "Lights 25 per cent. Temperature up 3 degrees." His hand reached behind him and took a hanger from the closet, handing it to her. She handed the hanger back to him and he stood there and watched as she pulled her sweater off over her head and handed it to him. He stood there with the sweater in one hand and hanger in the other and watched her remove her slacks. She turned to him with the slacks in her hand.

"Spock! You're supposed to be hanging them up! Come on." She handed him her slacks, turned towards the bed, undoing the clasp of her bra as she went. She took her bra off, laid it on his dresser, and pulled back the covers on the bed, laying down on the sheets in the center of the bed, wearing only her little white panties. "I'm waiting, Spock." She grinned at him.

He swallowed, hard. With hands beginning to shake, he draped her clothing over the hanger and hung it in the closet. He pulled his sweater off over his head and undid the fastening on his slacks, letting them drop to the floor. He stepped out of his slacks, bent to pick them up, never taking his eyes from her, draped his clothing over a second hanger and hung it in the closet and crossed to the bed, wearing only his briefs. He lowered himself down beside her, already feeling that hot swelling starting.

She reached up and caressed his chest, running her fingers through the dark hair growing there, grinning widely. "I like this, Spock." And then she raised her head and nuzzled against him. "Umm, that's so nice."

That felt so _wonderful_. He found himself growling softly at her. Her fingers against his skin were once again making trails of fire. He moaned as her fingers found his nipples and pinched lightly. At his response, she made a small sound of satisfaction and raised her head just enough to lap against one of those little nubs with her tongue, while still caressing the other with her fingers. He was beside himself. There were jolts of energy going from the sensitive flesh she was caressing straight to his lower belly, causing more hot swelling to occur. Did she feel the same thing when he caressed her breasts? He bent his head and took one rosy brown nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips, very lightly using his teeth to tug. She was moaning in his ear now. He wanted to ask her about those jolts and streaks of electrical energy, but she was so compelling that he could not remove his mouth from her. The other nipple drew his attention and he reached across and rolled it between his fingers. She was moving against him, pressed close, running her hands over him, kissing his skin, biting his neck, moaning, sighing, setting him on fire. He ran his hands down her body - she was so soft and cool. He circled her waist, drew his hands down her hips, caressed her thighs, everywhere he touched she moved her body against him, lifting up, pressing against hands, filling him with her sighs and moans. He could feel through all the places where their skin touched how _good_ she felt, how much she liked what he was doing. Could she feel what she was doing to him? Maybe he should open the link more, be sure she could feel him. He concentrated, trying to show her how she made him feel. She moaned so loudly under him that he shuddered. Maybe that had been _too_ much. Her hands rose up his body, found his ears, fondled, caressed, pinched. He growled louder, his heart pounding, his temperature rising, his body swelling, hot.

She was pushing against his shoulders. He lifted his head from her, looking at her face. What did she want?

"Roll over, Spock. Your turn to go first."

Not sure what she meant, but willing to do anything she wished at this point, he rolled over onto his back. She followed, arranging herself partially on top of him. She started with his face, kissing, biting gently, teasing him, she caressed his ears first with fingers, then with tongue, and then with teeth, causing him to growl and thrust his body up at her. He had his hands on her bottom, pulling her against him. She slid one leg over his, resting her knee on the bed between his legs. He could feel her warm against his leg, that spot that was_ wet_. He moved his leg against it, making her moan louder.

She worked her way down to his neck, kissing and biting. He was in absolute delight. She bit the hard plane of his shoulder, hard. He growled again, louder, pulling her even harder against him, wanting to feel her weight against that hot swelling that kept growing the more she tantalized him. Her lips swept down his chest, nibbling on skin grown so hot, so tight. She followed that line of dark hair down the center of his chest until it disappeared inside his briefs. Without pausing at all, her hands moved down inside on both sides and stripped his briefs down, down, as far as her hands could reach. Then she was moving, pulling his knees up, pulling his briefs down over his feet and throwing them on the floor. She pushed his knees back down to the bed, rolling over his leg so that she was now between his legs, her body touching the inside of both legs all the way down, her arms along his body in the crease between thigh and abdomen, her hands on his hips. He could feel her cool skin everywhere. It was glorious. She moved back to where she had left off and continued her downward descent over that line of dark hair, nibbling, biting, driving him insane with pleasure. His hips were moving, pushing at her, his hands pulled at her, trying to move her up over him, but she resisted, continuing to nibble on his skin, all over his stomach, on both sides, but not on that hard, hot swelling that greatly desired her attention.

"Nyota." His voice was deep, husky, vibrating. "ah, Nyota. More."

She laughed softly at him. "Soon, Spock, soon."

"Now, oh, Nyota, now, more." He wasn't sure what _more_ was, but he wanted it. Wanted it desperately.

She moved between his legs, sliding down until her chin rested just below his scrotum. He could feel her breath against him there. And then her tongue, licking, swirling, setting him on fire. And then her teeth, scraping, biting, tiny little bites that jolted through him like lightening. He pushed up against her, wanting more, growling, moaning, wanting _more_. And then her hands were on him, on that hot swollen part, caressing, stroking. Two fingers circled him at the base and stroked up the whole length, squeezing gently. He bucked against her. He felt like his whole body would explode soon. He cried out her name again, drawing it out, long, liquid. Her head lifted, her tongue swept up him from base to tip. One fingertip on the very end, spreading the liquid oozing from his body, pulling the slit there apart just enough that the tip of her tongue entered. He came completely undone at that point, thick, hot, sticky fluid jetting from where her tongue touched, covering his belly, his chest, hitting his chin as waves of incredible pleasure racked his body. It was amazing, wonderful, ecstasy beyond what he had felt the previous week. He threw his head back, his body arched, growling, calling her name. It was utterly wonderful.

When the waves of ecstasy receded, she was still laying there between his legs, still holding him in her hand. "Sorry about that. I didn't think you'd come quite that fast. Let me go get something to clean you up." She started to lift herself up, off of him.

He immediately clasped her and pulled her back down. "No, Nyota, more."

She looked at him. She tensed her fingers around him. He was still hard, still fully erect. "Whoa. How did you do that?"

"More. Please, Nyota."

"Okay. I think I know what you want. But I don't want that stuff in my hair, Okay? Let me clean you up." She reached over brought up one corner of the sheet and mopped at him, cleaning off the sticky fluid. Then she moved again, putting her hands flat on his abdomen, her arms supported against his hip bones, and starting at the very tip, began to swallow him. At least that's what it felt like. The inside of her mouth was warmer than her skin, but still cooler than that hot part of him that she was engulfing. Her tongue slid down, caressing, sucking, her teeth gently scraping against his sensitive skin, as she took more and more of him into her mouth. He was shaking now, blazing, moaning, growling, moving his hips upwards trying to get more of himself into her mouth. She was moving up and down, so many sensations, so much glorious ecstasy, and then she compressed her tongue against him and _sucked_. And he flew apart, shuddering, shouting, blazing with fire everywhere.

It was some time later before he was able to think. She was still laying between his legs, her head resting on his abdomen, turned sideways so that her face was towards his center. Her arms were across his body, her hands against his sides, just lightly holding him. He was full of lassitude, totally relaxed, all muscles soft. He felt almost like he was floating. He brought the hand next to the back of her head up and stroked her hair, rested it against the back of her neck. He sighed, a long soft sigh.

She sighed back at him, turned her face enough that she could rub against him. "Are you ready?"

"Ready?" What was she referring to?

"My turn."

His mind began to race. His 'turn' had been _wonderful_. And now she expected him to do the same things to _her_? He began to swell again.

"No, no, Spock." she was giggling at him. "MY turn!" she rolled over, off of him, onto her back. "Come on." She spread herself out, raising and lowering her hips, wiggling her body at him. "I'm waiting."

He rolled over so that he was against the side of her body, bent his left leg at the knee and placed the lower part of his leg between hers, his knee against that _wet_ spot. She sighed. He was supporting himself with his right arm, bent on the bed. He put his left hand on the bed on the other side of her, rolled a little more so that his chest and hips rested against her body and bent his face down to hers. She was smiling up at him, waiting. His heart was pounding again. He started at her temples, kissing softly. He kissed every part of her face, sucked on her earlobes, her neck, bit her softly where her neck curved into her shoulder, pulled her lower lip between his, sucked on it, bit it softly, teased her with his tongue. She sighed, she moaned, she moved her body against him. It was wonderful. He kissed her soft shoulders, nibbled on the hard line of her collarbone, raised one hand and sucked her fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue over them. She breathed his name, so soft, so long, sighing. He bent his head to her breasts, kissing, caressing, teasing the nipples harder and tighter, murmuring against her skin with words he hadn't realized he knew. She arched her body against him, moaning. He kissed her skin in a line down the center of her body, starting at her neck, moving down between her breasts, down between the edges of her ribs, down to the top of her little white panties. She was panting beneath him, her body hot, her heart pounding. With great care, he peeled her panties down. She lifted her hips so that he could pull them lower. He had to shift his position to get them down further. She bent her knees, bringing them up to help him. He finally got them free of her feet and tossed them to the floor. For the first time this part of her body was bare to his gaze. He feasted on her with his eyes. She was so perfect, so beautiful. He bent his head again, kissing the soft skin of her belly. She sighed again and spread her legs apart, showing him her center. He moved his face down, his nose almost touching her and inhaled deeply.

"Nyota." Her name came out long and liquid, his voice so deep, so low. She sighed again, spreading herself further for him, showing him the soft, wet folds of her flesh. He lifted his left hand from the bed and brought it to her, gently stroking, touching her there for the first time. She moaned. He grew a bit bolder, applied slightly more pressure, stroking again, touching. She moaned again, tilting her pelvis up, pressing herself against his fingers. He followed the soft folds of flesh to the little bud at the top, he knew what this was, he had found much explanation during his research. Carefully he touched. She moaned louder. He stroked softly. She pushed against him, still moaning. He stroked again, moving his finger from side to side a little. She began to buck against him, moving her hips up and down.

"Inside, Spock. Inside."

He drew that finger down her folds, finding the opening there, drops of moisture surrounding it. He slipped one finger inside, stroking her soft, warm, very wet flesh.

She sobbed, "yes, yes." He eased another finger inside, stroking gently. She was writhing against him, her hips moving up and down in time with his fingers. He looked carefully at her, considered the size and shape of his hand, twisted it slightly, placed his thumb against the little bud at the top and pushed gently, while sliding his fingers into her again. She surged up against his hand, screaming at him, "More, more." Well, he certainly knew _that _feeling. He applied a little more pressure, a little more speed. She convulsed around him. He could feel the throbbing in that small bud under his thumb, the contractions of the flesh around his fingers. She was screaming his name, crying, jerking, shuddering, and through the link between them, through his fingers touching her, he could _feel _her ecstasy. His body bowed, jerking, as he followed her into that glorious, wonderful, ecstasy.

After some time he became aware enough to roll over onto his back, pulling her up against him, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her, cradling her against him. And then they just laid there, all lax, enjoying the wonder. Until eventually it occurred to him that is was very, very late and she should be in her dorm.


	5. Chapter 5: You Will Be Mine

Author's Note: Countdown : And We Have Liftoff.

____________

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Five : You Will Be Mine**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid February 2258**

Thursday morning she got another one of those calls. Another simulation, probably all weekend again. She was to report at 1300 on Friday. He definitely would not see her that night. He was not happy.

**Nyota**

"I need to buy a Valentine. Could you help me?" Nyota looked at Gaila, begging.

Gaila considered. She looked at her friend, a smile curving over her lips. "Just what kind of Valentine are we talking about here?"

Nyota blushed - so deep a blush that is was visible even on her dark skin. "um, uh, the kind I need help with." Her voice was low, self-conscious. "I don't know how to buy that sort of stuff."

"Just exactly what sort of _stuff_ do you want to buy?" Gaila was silently exulting. FINALLY.

"I... I ... Something _encouraging_."

"Huh, things going too _slow_ for you?"

"Yes." muttered so low Gaila had trouble hearing it.

"Speak up now, I didn't quite catch that." Gaila was having so much _fun_ now.

"YES! OKAY! Things could go a little faster. He seems to be stuck in the same spot. Are you happy now?" Nyota was getting agitated. "Are you going to help me?"

"Of course I am, what are friends for? Come on, get dressed, let's go."

****

They roamed the mall. Nyota balked at the fancy lingerie. Gaila still thought that was the way to go, but Nyota was firm, that was NOT the way to go. She wanted something she could give him in the office, something to make him _think_ all day long. Something to make him_ anticipate _until the next time they were together. Valentine's Day was on Sunday. If she gave it to him just before she left the office on Friday, going to her simulation, then by Monday evening he should be _encouraged_. Gaila silently suffered from convulsions of laughter.

They looked at cards, but there just wasn't anything that came close to what was needed.

They looked at fancy boxes of candy, but Nyota didn't want him drunk, she wanted him fully conscious, fully in control, when he made this decision.

They looked at recordings of love songs, but that just wasn't it.

Down at the far end of the mall, they came to a studio that neither of them had seen before. Two heads snapped up at the same time. The girls looked at each other, eyes widening. They whooped with laughter. "Oh, yes, this is so it!"

Gaila grabbed Nyota by the arm and pulled her inside before she could change her mind. "I'm going to fix you up so there is going to be absolutely no doubt in his mind what you mean. Oh, girl, I'm SOO good at this! This is going to work!"

****

It took three hours. Three hours of primping, makeup, trying out different props, different settings, but finally they hit on the right combination. Both girls agreed that it was perfect. Half an hour later they left, Nyota carrying the small red envelope and grinning from ear to ear.

**Spock**

**Friday**

Just before she left the office, she took the small red envelope from her carry bag, reached over his shoulder, and laid it in the exact center of his desk. "Don't open that here. Take it back to your quarters." Then she left the office, practically dancing as she went.

He sat there, puzzled. He certainly enjoyed the sight of her lovely round bottom swinging from side to side as she left, but had no idea why she was so excited. He shook his head minutely. Then he took the small red envelope and slipped it into his briefcase. If she said not to open it in the office, there must be a reason, but he could not imagine what it might be.

***

It wasn't until after his evening meal that he remembered to open the small red envelope. It contained a small red folder. On the front was printed "Won't you be my Valentine." Inside was a picture. A picture of Nyota. His mouth went dry, while the rest of his body was instantly damp. His heart rate increased 22.35 percent. His temperature elevated 5 degrees. He shook. He stared at that picture. He backed up, stumbling, until the backs of his calves connected with the couch and he collapsed, never taking his eyes from the picture. He sat on the couch, trembling. She had had this picture taken just for him. He had no doubt of that. She wanted him to see her this way. She wanted him to have this reaction - this _arousal_. Because he was definitely aroused. Most definitely. Thoughts circled around in his mind. She _wanted_ this. She _intended_ this. She had deliberately provoked these _feelings_ in him. Moreover, she had given it to him on Friday morning, when they most probably would not be alone together until Monday evening. She wanted him to _anticipate_. He did not think that would be very difficult at all.

**Monday**

When he came back to his office after teaching his class, still not used to being in his classroom without her there, she was sitting at her desk, with a large stack of PADDs in front of her, grading student papers again. He stopped just inside the door to the office, looking at her. She had her earbuds in, listening to music. She probably had not heard him, he could stand here and watch her for a moment. His hand went unconsciously to pat his chest, where that little red folder rested in the inside pocket of his uniform jacket. It was already beginning to look somewhat worn. He had spent much time contemplating that picture over the weekend while she was locked up in the simulation. She had not even called him when she returned. But that must have been very late, because he had checked on this simulation, like he had the other. He knew that she had been off-planet this time, somewhere at SpaceDock. Hopefully she would be able to tell him about this one. She was tapping one foot softly against the other in time to the music she was listening to, her knee bouncing a little. Her long tail of hair hung over her left shoulder and she twirled one strand between the fingers of her left hand. The back of her neck was exposed. A thrill shot down his body. He leaned slightly backwards, turning his head and glanced down the hall in both directions. No one at all to be seen. Quickly he crossed the space to her chair, bent over and bit the back of her neck.

She jerked erect, gasping. "Spock!"

"Shh", he murmured, his mouth still on her neck. Then he straightened up, took one step backwards and sat down in his chair, the corners of his mouth quirked up.

She swiveled her chair around and glared at him, her right hand on the back of her neck. She hissed at him, her voice very quiet. "What did you do that for? Are you crazy? Anyone could walk down the hall." Her eyes were blazing at him. She was gorgeous, full of fire, blazing with energy. He was delighted.

"How did you know it was me?" He said, keeping his face very still, repeating her own words back to her.

"You really think there's anyone _else_ in the habit of biting me?" She was still upset, her words were sharp. "Anyone else I would _let_ bite me?"

He thrilled at the words she had spoken, at the meaning behind them. "I certainly hope not, Nyota. I would very much like to be the only person you would ever let bite you."

She huffed a bit, glared at him, then turned back to her desk, leaving him sitting there looking at her back. She completely ignored him for the next hour. Then she got up and made tea. When she set his cup down beside him, she bit the top of his ear. Quite hard. He had a great deal of difficulty in suppressing the reaction that occurred in his lower body.

***

She came across the gym floor, still glaring at him. As they moved through the kata, she managed to hit him eight times. Although he kept his face impassive, inside he exulted.

***

It was his turn to cook. He had decided on stir fry again. He was washing the vegetables when she came in. She did not say hello, but took the chopping block and knife and began vigorously hacking the vegetables into pieces. She was obviously still angry with him. He wisely stayed out of reach of the very sharp knife.

Eventually, she threw the knife down on the counter and turned to face him, her hands bunched into fists. "Why, Spock? Why did you do that?"

"I am sorry to have made you angry, Nyota. That was not my intention." He wanted to touch her, but that didn't really seem like a very good idea just at the moment.

"Just what was your intention? As I recall, you were the one who said we had to be very discrete. I wouldn't call biting me on the neck in your office with the door open _discrete_."

Perhaps his actions had been just a bit unplanned. He had reacted to the sight of her there after not seeing her all weekend - a weekend spent staring at that picture. He sighed. "Nyota, I will admit that my actions were perhaps not well considered." As she seemed to be about to interrupt him, he raised one hand to signal that he was not finished speaking. His voice dropped a bit lower. "I was overcome at the sight of you, when I had not seen you in 2 days, 22 hours, 3 minutes, and 36 seconds." He stopped as her face changed in a very strange way. Hesitantly, he continued. "I will also admit that I perhaps spent too much of that time admiring the ... Valentine which you gave to me on Friday." The tips of his ears felt very hot. "I..I did not exert sufficient control. I gave in to the impulse to mark you."

She stared at him. "Mark me?"

He was confused. "Yes."

"What do you mean, mark me?"

"To put my mark on you. To show my claim." She still had a very strange look on her face. Perhaps he had gone too far. Perhaps he had assumed too much. "So that others will not attempt to pursue you." His voice faltered.

"Spock." Her voice was very calm now. Very rich. He focused on her very intently. "Spock, it would not matter one bit to me how many others attempted to pursue me. I am already yours."

His mind circled about those words, considering them from all angles. Did they really mean what they seemed to say? Was this truly possible? His eyes were locked on hers, wide, dark. He replayed those words in his mind again, and again.

"Spock?" Her fingers grazed his face, skimming softly, leaving trails of fire upon his skin.

"Mine?" It seemed to be the only word he could articulate.

"Yours."

His hand reached out, tentatively, touched the side of her face, fingers reaching gently for her temple, seeking contact. Soft warmth poured into him, gentle, welcoming, accepting, _Nyota_. Vegetables totally forgotten on the counter, he pulled her into his arms, close against his body, bending his face so that their foreheads touched. With that added contact, their breath mingling softly, he soared, filled with her. She sighed. Her body relaxed against his, all anger gone.

"Spock, you had to have known that." Her voice was so soft and low.

"I did not. I did not assume. Humans have different practices than Vulcans." He hesitated. "Many humans have sexual relations with many partners. Even often concurrently. This is not the Vulcan way. I did not know your choice." He could not continue.

"But Spock, you have touched my mind so often, how could you not tell what I was feeling?"

"Light touches only, Nyota. We have not melded. I only get impressions, emotions, some vague images. Seldom anything more."

"I didn't know there was a difference."

"Yes, a great difference. In a true meld, I would have access to your memories, your thoughts, everything that is you. And you would have the same access to me. It would be ... overpowering."

"Oh. This is not common, then?"

He hesitated again. Proceeded carefully. "It is a normal part of the bonding ceremony."

"Bonding - marriage. It's what occurs during a Vulcan marriage - it's the seal that holds the partners together." He could see the knowledge blooming in her eyes.

"Yes." He took a very deep breath. "When two Vulcans are betrothed, there is an initial meld. A ... connection is established. Permanently. So that the two are always in contact. It is very weak then, but strengthened considerably when the bonding ceremony is held in adulthood." He paused again, then continued. "These things are not spoken of to outsiders, Nyota."

"Am I not an outsider, Spock?" Her voice was very small.

"Not to me, Nyota. Most definitely not to me." He rolled his face down the side of hers, lips soft against her skin, tasting, stopping when he came to her lips, moving gently, sliding the tip of his tongue against her, enticing.

Her voice came low and soft, "Spock, where does the marking come in?"

He had been afraid that was going to come up. He was quiet for a moment, marshaling his thoughts, trying to decide how to proceed. He knew she had studied Vulcan history. Perhaps that was the way to begin. "On Vulcan, before logic prevailed, men fought for their mates. And when one was chosen.." His voice faded. He was having difficulty with this topic.

"He marked her. So all could see. So he did not have to fight others. So they would know she was taken." She was watching him. She was _thinking_, he could see it in her eyes. She looked at him again, weighing what she would say next. When she spoke again, her voice was more tentative. "And she marked him, as well?"

He held his breath, nodded. And she leaned forward and bit his neck, _very_ hard. He shook, he growled at her, he stretched out his neck so that she could continue, he burned, his arousal overwhelming. She bit him again, just a bit further up his neck, just as hard as the first. His hands closed over her bottom, lifting her, bringing her against him. She lifted her legs and wound them around him, bringing her center against his hard length. She bit him again. He took two steps and laid her back onto the table, one hand slipping down to pull at her clothing. She was writhing under him, still locked about him, moaning, her mouth still on his neck, bites rising up towards his earlobe. He pulled at her clothing, frustrated beyond belief. He heard cloth rip, felt skin beneath his hand, ripped more, found more soft, cool skin. One hand planted flat on the table supporting himself, with the other he ripped and pulled until all her glorious skin was bare beneath him, then went to the neck of his shirt and tore that as well. She hands were on his hips, pushing his pants down. He kicked them free as they fell to his ankles. There was only one impediment now, but her hands were already busy there, freeing him, guiding him where he wished to go. He felt her against him everywhere, skin to skin, wonderful, _wanting_ him, offering herself, _ready_. Her hand on him, squeezing, pulling, guiding, until he touched her soft, wet folds, began to sink into her. He was shaking again, blazing hot, growling at her, his teeth on her shoulder, trying so hard not to bite as hard as he wished, control fleeing, and then she was rising against him, drawing him in and it. Was. The. Most. Wonderful. Thing. He. Had. Ever. Felt. In. His. Life. Nyota was all about him, enclosing, surrounding, her emotions flowing through him, her skin touching his, her firm softness clenched around him, moving against his body, moaning continuously, her teeth locked on the side of his ear, _Nyota_. From deep within him, something welled up, filled him completely, burst loose and enveloped her, joining the two of them into one being, as he came, hard, shouting at her, "My Nyota, MINE!"

Beneath him, she convulsed, arching up against him, tiny muscles closing in spasms around him, wetness against his hot flesh, screaming, crying at him, "My Spock, MINE!"

***

The vegetables sat on the counter top, waiting, but no one came to cook them. The bed, however, was well used.

***

She rolled over from where she had been laying half on his body, her head pillowed on his shoulder. She stretched out, her hands pushing against the wall over her head.

"I need a shower. Guess I better head back to the dorm."

Shower. He remembered the time he saw her in the shower, back arched, singing softly. She still does not know that he saw her - it is one of his hoarded secrets. He has also seen her climbing from the pool, drops of water clinging to her skin. He does not wish her to leave. Perhaps....it would be very forward, possibly even inappropriate. Still...

"Would it not be more convenient for you to shower here, before dressing again?"

She was quiet a moment while he almost held his breath. "On one condition."

"Please state your condition."

"You must come and shower with me." With that she jumped up off the bed, grabbed his arm and drug him along behind her towards the bathroom.

He stumbled along behind her in confusion. Shower _with_ her? Two bodies in that small enclosure will be...umm, they will be touching, with the water sliding between them. Perhaps this is more interesting than it first appears.

She pulled him into the shower stall and closed the door, waved her hand under the shower head to start the water. Almost immediately her hand darted to the controls and reset the temperature somewhat cooler than his usual setting. "Is that okay? It's not too cold for you?"

"No, this is fine."

She raised her hands to his face and tilted his head down. Her hands ran through his hair, ruffling it up, getting it thoroughly wet. What is she doing?

"Where's your shampoo?"

He reached behind him, found the bottle, flipped open the top and squeezed a small amount into her waiting hand. She rubbed it into his hair, her fingers massaging his scalp. She tilted his head further down so that she could reach the top of his head. When she wass satisfied with the amount of suds she had created, she began to rinse his hair, tilting his head back into the stream of water.

No one had washed his hair for him since he was a small boy. And that was certainly _not_ the same as this. The feel of her fingers against his scalp was tantalizing.

She removed her hands from his head and turned away from him. He was confused. She reached behind her and fanned her hair out to catch the water. Is he to wash _her_ hair now? Fingers trembling slightly, he helped her to wet her hair. When it was thoroughly wet, streaming in a mass down her back, he reached for the shampoo bottle again. He squeezed a small amount into his hand and began to massage her scalp. She tilted her head back into his hands and sighed. He worked his way down the mass of her hair, adding more shampoo when the suds fail to stretch any further. Eventually he had the whole mass of it covered in creamy suds. He began to rinse them out, watching them fall in clumps down her back, onto her bottom. The clumps of suds slid down her skin slowly, some following the cleft between her buttocks. He struggled hard to suppress his reaction, wanting to trail his fingers there with the suds.

When he had finished rinsing her hair, he stood there unsure what to do next. She turned towards him again, a soft smile on her face. _He has pleased her_. His lips quirked up in return. Pleasing her is very gratifying.

She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around again, so that his back was to her. "Don't you have any shower gel?"

He handed her the small bar of soap that he kept in the shower.

"Well, I guess this will do, but gel is better. I'll get a bottle to bring over here."

_She will bring a whole bottle of shower gel and leave it here? She intends to do this many times? _Warmth suffused his body. This is definitely a good thing.

Her hands roamed over his back, rubbing soap into his skin. They curved around his buttocks, and slid down his legs. She lifted first one and then the other foot, soaping the sole and between his toes. The soap and water made him slippery and her hands glide almost without friction. It was harder and harder not to become aroused. Her hands glide over him again, rinsing off the soap.

Now she turned him about, handed him the soap, and turned her back, lifting her hair up and over her shoulder so that her whole back was bare before him. Her back is so lovely. Firm muscles and soft skin, delicate and yet strong. Hesitantly at first, and then with more assurance, he ran his soapy hands over her body, copying the actions she had performed on him. He was enchanted with the feel of her under his hands with the water running over them both.

When he had finished with her feet, he stood behind her, not entirely certain what she will do next. She turned about, brushing against him in the small enclosure. She took the soap back from his hand and rubbed it between hers, making suds. He watched her hands, mesmerized. She lifted her hands and began to clean his face, making little circular motions over his skin. She washed his ears, her fingers stroking the delicate edges and sensitive tips. He could help it, he moaned at her. She smiled at him, the tip of her pink tongue between her teeth.

Now her hands caressed his neck. He stretched his head back to bare his neck to her, reveling in the feel of her hands against him. She washed his arms, moving from the shoulders down to his fingers, carefully washing each finger and the palm with the tips of two of her fingers. This gave him little bursts of bliss and desire flowing from her into him, igniting him. He gasped as she caressed his palm again. She bubbled with soft laughter, enjoying the reaction she was getting from him.

Her hands moved to his chest, and, although this was very nice, his hands felt abandoned. She ruffled the soft dark hair that grew on his chest, rubbing soap into it and then rinsing it out again. She fiound the two small nipples hiding there and squeezed them between her fingers. He gasped again. Her hands moved down his abdomen, gliding over the muscles of his stomach. When her hands had almost reached that part of him that is now craving her touch, she bent over and began to wash his ankles. Almost he cried out - that is _not_ where he wants her hands!

She washed his legs, upwards from the ankles. There was now only one part of his body that has not received her ministrations. She pushed against the inside of one thigh. When he did not respond, she pushed again, a little harder.

"Spread out." Her voice seemed a bit strained. He could not imagine why.

He did as she asked him, shifting one foot to the side so that his thighs do not touch. Her hands slid between his legs, covered in soap suds, and cupped his scrotum, one testicle in each hand. She rolled him around in her hands, covering his scrotum completely in suds. He gasped and jerked, but did not move from the position she had put him in. Now she glides her hands up his hard hot erection, soaping his entire length. _This is agony_!

Her hands passed over him again, rinsing all the soap off. She lifted her head and looked him in the eye. There was such a strange expression on her face, a smile, but not a smile, and her eyes were all dilated, the muscles of her face soft. Her breathing was not its normal even rhythm. She handed him the soap.

His mouth and throat were dry. He held the soap like it was the most wondrous thing in the world. So slowly, he rubbed the soap, making suds. He collected the suds with one hand and lifted it to her face. She tilted her chin up and closed her eyes. Gently and carefully he washed her face, then rinsed the soap off. He stroked her neck, her shoulders. Following the routine she had established, he washed her arms, her hands. She sighed.

With hands he must force not to tremble, he rubbed the soap upon her breasts, cupping them gently, feeling the soft weight of them against his palms. He rolled the rosy brown nipples between his thumb and forefinger, the way he remembers she likes. She moaned and swayed. His hands returned to wash away the soap.

He moved down her body, soaping her ribs, her belly. Washed away the suds. Then he bent and started at her ankles, as she did to him. At last he had finished every part of her body except the very center of her. Holding his breath, he lightly touched the inside of her thighs. With a long sigh, she shifted and spread her legs apart, granting him access.

Even if he were not standing under the pelting water, he would be damp all over now. He was throbbing.

With careful fingers, he rubbed the soap upon her, then rinsed it off. He reached for the small shelf behind him and placed the soap there. She was swaying before him, eyes closed. Even with the water pouring over her, he could smell her. She is his, she has said so. He could restrain himself no longer. His arms encircled her, his hands found her bottom and lifted her up against him. Her legs lifted and wemt about him, pulling him close to her. Her arms went over his shoulders, her hands locking on the back of his neck. She lifted her face to him and kissed him, her tongue caressing his. He took one step and pressed her back against the wall of the shower stall and thrust himself into her, unable to wait any longer. Her legs tightened, pulling him in. She turned her face and bit his ear. He roared at her, shouting her name, thrusting hard into her. Her muscles squeezed against him, enflaming him even further. She began to rock against him, giving him the rhythm he had not been able to find. Together they plunged into ecstasy.

He leans his forehead against hers, breathing hard, holding her still against the wall, wrapped around him. "I think I need a shower to recover from my shower."

She bubbles over with laughter, clutching him to her in delight.


	6. Chapter 6: Love Changes Everything

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Six : Love Changes Everything**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid February 2258**

**Very early Tuesday morning**

When she came stumbling into the bedroom of her dorm room _very_ late, dressed in different clothing than she had been wearing when she left, Gaila's eyes about bugged out. "It _worked_? Oh, girl, I need _details_! Right now!"

She giggled and collapsed on her bed, laying sprawled on her back, arms and legs flung out. "I don't think I have energy enough to talk." Her eyes shone, her hair was damp and loose, she was wearing loose cotton pants and a tee-shirt. Definitely not the nice tailored slacks and sweater she had worn when she left the dorm eight hours earlier.

Gaila looked at her more closely. "Nyota, you have BITE marks on your neck!"

She giggled again. "Oh, you should see HIM!"

**Tuesday, 0600**

As he ran past her, she got a brief look at his ear. Oh, NO! Those were definitely bite marks - and highly visible. On the next pass he slowed down to her speed and she carefully slid her eyes sideways to be sure that she had seen correctly. Not only were there distinct bite marks on his ear, but on the side of his neck as well. This would not do at all!

**Spock **

**Tuesday, 0630**

He reached the building where he lived, jogged on to the stairwell, and took the steps two at a time to his floor. Walking rapidly down the hall, he was about to touch the plate beside his door when his neighbor walked through his own door into the hall.

The computer science instructor looked over to the tall Vulcan who had obviously just returned from his morning run. He wasn't really sure he wanted to do this, however, there just wasn't any real alternative. "Hey, Spock, I need to ask a favor, okay? Can you remember to turn the soundproofing on next time, huh? I spent half an hour in a cold shower last night." He stood, looking at Spock and waiting for a response.

Spock cocked his head and looked very vaguely puzzled. "Soundproofing?"

The other instructor sighed. "You know, in your quarters. Didn't you ever...? Well, maybe not. Anyway, just tell the computer to soundproof your apartment, okay?" He turned to head towards the turbolift at the end of the hall, then stopped, thinking about the obvious bite marks he had seen on his Vulcan neighbor's neck and ear. "And, hey, enjoy, huh?" He grinned widely and continued down the hall.

Spock keyed the touchplate and entered his quarters, trying to figure out what that conversation had been about. Soundproofing? Cold shower? Enjoy? Enlightenment began to trickle through. They had been _overheard_? With great haste, he engaged the environmental computer. "Computer, soundproof quarters."

"Working. Quarters soundproofed."

This was something he was definitely **not** going to share with Nyota!

**Tuesday, 0830**

Nyota was late arriving at the office. She came in stopped, looked hard at him, turned and closed the office door, holding up one hand when he started to protest. She stepped quickly over to him, setting her carrybag down on her desk and pulling something out of it.

"I stopped at the Medical Center on my way over here." She leaned over him and sprayed something on his right ear, then handed him the small canister and turned around, pulling her hair up off the back of her neck. There was a large bite mark clearly visible.

He hesitated. She spoke softly. "It will still be there, Spock. You and I will know it's there."

He looked at the canister she had handed him, then sprayed the back of her neck with it. As he watched, the bite mark faded away. If he looked closely, he could still see it, but from a distance further than a centimeter, it was now invisible. She turned around and took the canister back, then she turned his head back and forth and leaned over, looking at the sides and back of his neck. She sprayed the right side of his neck, just below his ear. Then she hooked one finger in the collar of his uniform jacket, pulling it slightly away from his neck and slid it all the way around looking. Twice she stopped and sprayed him. Then she backed up, looking him over carefully before putting the spray can back in her bag.

She was still a minute, then took the spray can back out of her bag and handed it to him. "Better take this to your quarters." He felt a thrill zing through him. She _planned_ to bite him again. _Wonderful_.

While he slid the small canister into his briefcase, she crossed the office again and reopened the door. Then she started to make tea, just as she would on any other morning.

**Tuesday, 1245**

He heard her footsteps in the hall and wondered fleetingly where she was going - she should be headed to class now. When she stepped into his office he lifted his head from the papers he was grading, raising one eyebrow in question.

She removed a small sack from the bag she always carried around the campus and set it in the center of his desk. He looked down at the bag and back up at her, still questioning.

"um, I did some ... shopping. I was wondering ..." She faltered, took a deep breath, began again. "If you could just slip that in your briefcase so I don't have to carry it across campus...." Her voice died away again.

One hand reached out and pulled the sack closer, reached in and brought out something long and round. Looking down, he saw that he was holding a bottle of shower gel. His temperature rose 2.3 degrees and his heart rate sped up 5.4 percent. He raised his eyes back to hers, darker than they had been. Without looking, his other hand reached down beside the desk and brought the standard issue StarFleet briefcase that he carried back and forth between his office and his quarters every day up to the surface of the desk and unlatched it. He laid the bottle of shower gel in the briefcase and closed it again.

As he was about to fasten the latch, she spoke again, her voice hesitant. "Uh, there are other ... things."

He reached back into the sack and brought out two more items. Dropping his eyes to his hand, he saw a toothbrush and a small canister of toothpaste. These joined the shower gel in the briefcase. Once again his hand reached into the sack and drew out a comb and hairbrush. He raised his eyes to hers again. If possible, his eyes were even darker than they had been before. Without looking, he added these items to the briefcase. Once again, he started to latch it.

"There's one more thing in the sack." Her voice was small, very quiet. Her eyes were huge, staring at him.

He reached into the sack again and brought out a small blue box. Both eyebrows rose.

"I...I'll need those... next week." She was breathing faster than normal and her heart beat was somewhat erratic.

The small blue box went into the briefcase. Cocking his head slightly to the side, he questioned silently.

"That's all." Her voice was still very quiet, tentative.

He latched the briefcase, set it back on the floor. He took the now empty sack, smoothed it, folded it. The hand holding it disappeared over the side of the desk.

_That's not the side the wastebasket's on_. _What did he do with it_?

"I shall convey your belongings, Cadet." His eyes were still dark, deep pools that she felt like she was drowning in. "I believe that you will be late to class if you do not hurry." He paused. His voice became even lower, even huskier. "I will see you in the linguistics lab this evening."

"Yes, yes, you will. And ... thanks." She turned and hurried out of his office, off to her class.

He sat at his desk, the fingers of his left hand caressing the small, neatly folded sack in the second drawer on that side of his desk.

**Nyota**

She was besieged by students tonight. She had barely lifted the flag on her carrell when she was surrounded. Spock actually came twice and cleared students away from her, telling them that they could not block the aisle. When he flicked the lights to force the cadets to pick up their belongings and leave the lab, she was exhausted. Slowly she stuffed things in her bag, then stretched and twisted, trying to get the kinks out. She stood up, picked up her bag and headed for the door to the hall, where Spock waited for her. He turned off the lights just as she came up to him and pulled her up against him.

"You are tired."

"Yes, it's been a long day." She leaned into his chest, her face buried against him. It was so nice to feel his warmth. She sighed and straightened up. "Okay, I'm ready to go."

He opened the door to the hall and waited for her to pass through, following behind and locking the lab. They turned toward the stairwell and found large warning signs blocking their way.

"They're replacing the non-slip coating on the stairs _tonight_? Crap." It seemed to be just one thing after another tonight. She turned towards the other end of the hall, where the turbolift was. He placed one warm hand in the small of her back, rubbing softly. They walked down the hall, pressed the call button and waited for the doors to open. Stepping inside, she called out "Main lobby", then leaned into his warmth again as the doors closed and the lift began to rise. They had not gone more than 3 or 4 feet into the air when the whole building shook. She grabbed Spock's jacket, hanging on for dear life, as the lift swayed and swung, groaning. "Earthquake?"

"It would seem so." He had one hand braced on the wall of the lift, the other arm wound about her, his feet wide apart to steady them as the lift continued to sway. All the lights went out.

When the worst of the shaking seemed to be over, she spoke again. "I thought they stabilized all those faults?"

"Apparently not. Stay against the wall, Nyota. Let me see whether I can force the door open." He relinquished his hold on her and moved to the front of the lift, running his hands over the door. When he found the seam where the panels met the side of the door opening, he curled his fingers around the small lip and pushed. Nothing happened. He changed his position, moved his hands, tried again, using as much force as he could exert. The door panel did not move. He was getting frustrated. Once more he tried. This time one hand slipped and he hit the door jamb with considerable force, uttering an exclamation of surprise and pain. Instantly she was beside him, trying to find out what he had done. She ran her hands over his, feeling for blood or broken skin. She sighed in relief when she didn't find any.

"Just banged up, Nyota, nothing serious. It does sting."

She lifted the stinging fingers to her mouth and sucked them inside, soothing the sore pads with her tongue. He bent his head down to hers, resting against her. "There should be a hatch in the roof. Let me lift you up and see whether you can find it."

"Okay." She dropped her carrybag on the floor and waited while he tried to decide exactly how to lift her. After a moment, he placed his hands on the sides of her waist and hoisted her into the air.

"Sit on my shoulders." He raised her somewhat higher and ducked his head down as he moved her backwards. She braced her hands on the top of his head and wrapped her legs over his shoulders. One of his hands moved under her bottom, supporting. She raised one arm up, encountering the ceiling only a few inches above the top of her head.

"Okay, my head is about 5 centimeters from the ceiling now. I'll going to run my hands over the ceiling as far as I can reach as see whether I can find the hatch." She felt about, but only felt smooth ceiling. "Okay, you're going to have to move because I don't feel anything." She walked her hands across the ceiling as he moved. "Okay, stop, let me feel again." Still nothing. "Move over a bit more and I'll try again." This time she found the square opening. She pushed with both hands, but the panel covering the opening did not move. "Move a little further, so you are directly under the hatch."

"Nyota, I cannot see the hatch. Which direction should I move?"

"Oh, sorry." She felt around the hatch. "Okay, move to your right about 5 centimeters, then straight in front about the same." She held on while he moved, then felt the opening again. "Okay, good. Brace yourself now, I'm going to push hard." She braced both hands flat on the hatch panel and pushed as hard as she could. Nothing happened. "Spock, put your hands under my feet so that I can push down as well as up, so that I get more leverage." His hands moved down her legs, cupped under her feet, and pushed up firmly. Once more she placed her hands flat against the panel, took a deep breath, and pushed both up and down at the same time. She pushed so hard that she bumped the top of her head against the unyielding panel. "OOW!"

Immediately he pulled her down from his shoulders, cradling her against his chest. "Nyota, what did you do? Are you injured?" She could hear panic in his voice.

"I just banged my head because I pushed too hard. That thing is just as stuck as the door. It's not going to open. Isn't that a code violation of some sort?"

"Almost certainly. However, that doesn't help us get out." He was quiet a minute, then spoke again. "I believe we are stuck here until the power comes back on."

At that moment another shock hit the building, causing the lift to sway again. This time they were in the middle of the compartment, with nothing to brace against. Spock stumbled and went down to one knee, keeping both arms around her. As the building continued to shake, he managed to turn and drop to the floor, keeping her above him. They lay on the floor, waiting for the aftershock to subside.

"Okay, I think maybe it would be a good idea for us to find one of the back corners and just settle in. I don't want to be standing the next time one of those hits. You didn't hurt your knees, did you?"

"No, I am uninjured. I think your idea has much merit."

"Aren't these things supposed to have emergency lighting? It's pitch black in here."

"Another code violation?" His voice was dry.

She felt about, finding the wall, feeling along until she found the corner. "Okay, over here."

He moved, feeling along the wall beside her, moving until he sat in the corner, shoulders braced against the walls, then drew her into his lap. He pulled her back against his chest, tucking her head under his chin, and wrapped his arms around her. She sighed and leaned back against him, feeling his warmth all around her.

"How long do you think we'll be in here, Spock?"

"There are too many variables to compute a meaningful answer. I cannot know what sort of damage may exist above. Or what sort of damage may have occurred to the electrical grid. It could be many hours." He was quiet several minutes. "Nyota, do you have any food or drinks in your carrybag?"

"Are you hungry? I think I have some ration bars down in the bottom somewhere. I usually carry those, just in case I get absorbed at the library and forget to go eat until the mess hall is closed."

"No, I am not hungry. I am just assessing our situation. Nothing to drink?"

"I don't think so. Let me check." She reached out, found her bag, and pulled it towards them. She rummaged through it by feel. "Okay, I have three ration bars, one chocolate bar, and this feels like a bottle of electrolytes."

"Excellent. Be sure it is firmly capped and leave it as long as possible. Eat the chocolate bar now."

She sat there a moment. Why did he want her to eat the chocolate?

"Give me a piece of it."

"Spock? You know what chocolate does to you."

"Yes." His voice was husky. "I do not estimate that anyone will come to let us out of here for many hours. I can think of a very pleasant way to spend the time."

She was suddenly very, very warm. "Are you sure? I mean, suppose you're wrong? I..." Just then another aftershock caused the lift cage to swing and groan. "Okay, I'm sure you're right. They're going to be so busy that no one will even think of this lift."

She fished the chocolate bar out of her bag and then scooted it back against the wall beside them. She unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a small corner. She twisted around and felt for Spock's face, slipping the small piece of chocolate between his lips. "This is dark chocolate. I don't think you should have very much of it."

"I will accept your decision."

She nibbled on the chocolate, her pulse rate accelerating. She remembered very well how he had been after eating that peppermint bark.

"The peppermint bark was more appealing. However, I believe this is working faster." His speech was not his normal crisp cadence, it was softer, almost blurred. He bent his head, rubbing the side of his face against hers. "I believe we are wearing too many clothes, Nyota."

She giggled at him. Then she took the remainder of the chocolate bar and put it back in her bag. She reached down and unzipped her boots, pulling them off. She pulled off her socks and stuffed them in her boots, then laid the boots on top of her carrybag. Then she leaned forward and tugged on his boots, removing them and his socks as well. These went next to hers. Next she unsealed her uniform jacket and shrugged out of it, folding it down on top of her boots. Now she twisted about and unsealed his uniform jacket and pulled and tugged, getting it down off his arms while he nuzzled her face and neck and kept putting his arms back around her before she could get his arms out of the sleeves. "Spock, you need to help me."

"I will be glad to help you, lovely Nyota. What do you need help with?"

She laughed softly at him. "I need to get you out of your clothes. Come on, cooperate. Hold your arm out so that I can get the sleeve off."

With exaggerated care, he held out one arm stiffly while she pulled and tugged and finally got his arm out of the sleeve. The other side slid off much easier. She folded up his jacket and placed it on top of hers. Since she was now facing him, on her knees, she decided that she would continue with his clothing, although he was pulling at hers now. "Spock, stop. Please don't rip my clothing. I don't have anything else here to put on. I need to be fully clothed when they find us."

He sighed. "Please do hurry, Nyota. I wish to feel your lovely soft skin." His nose was once more buried in her neck.

She found the hem of his sweater and lifted it up towards his face, urging his arms up into the air. With much less trouble than she had had with his jacket, she got it off of him. Then her hands dropped to the fastening of his trousers. He was already aroused, she had no difficulty telling _that_. She pulled and pushed and poked at him to get him to lift his butt to slide his trousers down. When they were folded on top of his sweater, she released the clasp on her jumper and wiggled out of it. He 'helped' her by running his hands over her entire body.

"Lovely Nyota, you still have too many clothes on. Please remove them."

"I'm trying, Spock, I really am. Just give me a minute." Her sweater was off now, the only clothing remaining on either of them was their underwear. It only took a minute to remove that - the difficulty being in keeping him from simply ripping it off.

As soon as she finished folding and stacking clothing, she turned back towards him and laid her hands on either side of his face. Then she began to kiss him. He sighed and ran his hands down her back, making small happy noises, almost purring at her. He cupped her bottom in his hands and raised her up, pulling her towards him. She lifted her feet and slid them over the tops of his thighs, down to the floor behind him. His erection was now trapped between them, throbbing against her belly. As soon as her weight was balanced on his thighs, his hands began to move upon her, caressing her, moving into her warm, wet folds. In only a few moments, she was writhing against him, moaning and gasping. Once again he lifted her body, only high enough that she was poised over him, then he lowered her, slowly, sinking into her warmth one centimeter at a time. When she had slid all the way down and their bodies were resting tightly against each other, he clasped her bottom again, and began to pump against her, very very slowly. She moaned and sighed against him, her hands on his shoulders now to give her leverage. She leaned against his chest, rubbing her breasts against him. Then she stretched up and began to nibble on his ears. Now he was definitely purring at her. He picked up the pace a bit, moving only slightly faster. She hovered on the brink of ecstasy until she could stand it no longer. "Spock, make me come now." she whispered at him. And he pushed up hard into her and pushed her over the edge. Everything shattered. It was wonderful. He was growling at her. Barely able to think she bent her face against the side of his neck and bit. He shuddered and flooded her with heat. They passed the ecstasy back and forth to each other until finally the shuddering and shaking died down to twitches, laying limp against each other, their breath gradually evening out.

"Oh, wow, Spock, how often to you think we can get trapped in a turbolift?" she felt him vibrating against her - he was actually _laughing_. He pulled her head down against his chest, her face against his neck, and laid the side of his face against the top of her head. They stayed wrapped around each other until they began to get chilled, when a further period of physical activity warmed them up again. They repeated this cycle until they were both so sated that they redressed, shared a ration bar, and tried to find a comfortable position in which to sleep, careful to move away from the wet spots on the floor.

**Early Wednesday morning**

They were seated in the opposite corner of the lift cage, her back to his chest, his arms wrapped around her, dozing lightly, when they heard voices outside. "Hello, anyone in there?"

"Yes, there are two of us inside." Spock answered.

"Well, we'll get you out as soon as possible. Sorry it took so long."

They heard voices, the whine of some motor, and the lift began to jerk and sway, then dropped a foot with one large jerk. Then it smoothed out and descended the remainder of the way to the bottom. By the time the door opened, they were standing erect, not touching, and Nyota had her carry bag slung over her arm again. They quickly exited the turbolift, thanked their rescuers, and headed straight for the stairs, eager to be away before anyone noticed the several large damp spots on the floor, or took note of who had been trapped.

___________

Author's Note: A couple of weeks ago someone suggested 'trapped in a confined space' as a theme - and then someone else mentioned an earthquake in a review note - and I just couldn't resist putting them together :-) Hope you liked what I did with the suggestions.


	7. Chapter 7: Love Me Do

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Seven : Love Me Do**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**February 2258**

**Wednesday**

When they arrive at her dorm, there is already light in the sky. They will get no more sleep if they follow their normal schedule. He can still feel the chocolate, not entirely cleared from his system - it would _not_ be a good idea to try to run. "Nyota, no track this morning. My muscles are still uncoordinated from the chocolate. Set your alarm later and get some more sleep. If you are late arriving at the office no one will know - it will be chaos this morning."

She stands in the circle of his arms, knowing just by that, that the chocolate is still influencing him. She had been right to give him such a small piece. Their foreheads are touching and she can feel him within, much softer than normal. "I will sleep in only if you promise to do so. And I will _know_ if you are not honest with me."

He attempts to hide his intentions from her, then gives it up as a lost cause. He sighs. "All right. I shall promise not to arise until 0700. This will be sufficient sleep for me. Is this satisfactory?"

"Yes. I will reset my alarm for 0800, then. I will see you in the office." She lifts her chin and brushes his mouth softly with hers before taking a step back and then turning to enter her dorm, that tiny spark of connection between them still there. He is too tired, too relaxed and sated, to think about that spark now.

When she is safely inside, he continues on to his quarters, strips off his uniform and collapses on the bed.

***

He does not actually awaken until 0730. It is most unusual not to awaken at his predetermined hour, but he blames this on the chocolate. He showers quickly. While he is standing before the mirror in this bathroom, brushing his hair, he thinks to check his neck to see whether there are any new bite marks that he needs to hide. The can of skin spray sits on the counter beside the sink. Nyota had been so considerate to bring that to him. He dresses in a fresh uniform, eats some fruit and a bread roll, picks up his briefcase, and heads for his office. The campus is not quite usual this morning. There are ground crews cleaning up downed branches - one large tree is down near the Linguistics Building, also. He sees another crew repairing a buckled pathway. There is probably damage to some of the buildings as well.

The door to his office does not open when he taps on the touch plate. There must be damage to either the building's environmental computer or the electrical circuits. He retrieves his id chip from his jacket pocket and inserts it in the slot under the touch plate. This does not work either. Suppressing a sigh, he braces his briefcase against the wall and rifles through it, finding the small key in an interior pocket. He inserts the key in the lock and turns it, finding the seldom used mechanism stiff. With a large push, the door finally opens. The office is dark, the lights will not come on, the widow mechanism does not respond. Finally he figures out the manual controls for the window and light comes through. He sets his briefcase down in its accustomed place and looks about the office. There will not be any tea this morning. The computer system seems to be completely down. He does have PADDs to grade. But first he needs to check to see whether any cadets have made it to class. The classroom is probably dark and locked as well. He heads down the hall to his classroom.

**Nyota**

When her alarm goes off at 0800, she can barely crawl out of bed. She stumbles into the shower and turns it on full blast, instantly enveloped in shockingly cold water. She screams and jumps out of the shower stall. Now fully awake, she shivers as she dries herself off. She brushes her hair hard, trying to get it to look presentable. By the time she is dressed, Gaila is poking her head out from under the covers. Grabbing a ration bar to eat on the way to the office, because she really doubts the Mess Hall will be functioning properly if there is no hot water, she grabs her bag to leave, then thinks to tell Gaila there is no hot water.

***

Spock's office is standing open, the window setting is strange, but at least there is light. Nothing electrical seems to be working. Spock is not sitting at his desk, so he must be in the classroom, although she is not sure that classes will be going on as usual today. She drops her carrybag on her desk, and tries to figure out how she can make tea. She r_eally_ needs a cup of tea. She wanders off down the hall, checking to see what is functional in the building. When she gets to the office of the head of the department, she finds someone has brought in a portable power supply and goes running back to the office to get the water pot.

When the tea is ready to drink, she carefully covers one cup and sets off down the hall to Spock's classroom. He will not have had any tea this morning before class, if there is a class. She reaches his classroom and discovers that he is standing in the hall, turning away students. Apparently he cannot even get the door to the classroom open. She walks up, stops at his left elbow and waits until he has finished giving an assignment to the two students in front of him, and then holds up the tea. He looks at it in obvious astonishment, his eyebrow high on his face, then takes the cup and inhales the warm steam before taking a sip. "Thank you, Nyota. How?"

She smiles at him. "I just went looking down the hall until I found a workman with a portable power unit."

"Very logical thinking." His lips are quirked up at the corners. Another student comes rushing down the hall, stops when he sees his instructor just standing in the hall drinking tea, and Nyota turns to go back to the office. She has a _huge_ stack of PADDs to grade.

***

She is sitting at her desk, grading papers, when they come looking for Spock. Apparently there is much damage in the message array lab. She directs them to his classroom, where he is still standing in the hall. In a few minutes, he is back, asking her to come with him. They have started out of the room when he stops and goes back for his briefcase. She grabs her carrybag and he locks the door again with that small key.

When they get to the message array lab, they both gasp. Equipment has toppled to the floor. There is a litter of broken view-screen pieces, shattered plastic moldings, and bent metal covering the floor. Thankfully, the electricity is off, so there have not been any fires. She hangs her carrybag on the coat hook on the wall beside the door, then adds her uniform jacket, pushing the sleeves of her sweater up as well, and starts to clear debris from the floor. Spock looks at her, considers for a moment, and then takes off his uniform jacket as well, however, he does not push up his sleeves. When she has her hands full of small pieces, she turns to discover that he has found a bin somewhere and set it in the middle of the floor. He is bent over, engaged in trying to turn a cabinet back upright, his uniform trousers stretched tight over his bottom. She stifles a giggle and dumps the debris in the bin, goes back for more. By the time her stomach starts to rumble, they have most of the floor clear. When he hears the rumbling, he immediately straightens up and goes to retrieve their jackets, handing hers to her. They will go and find nourishment together, he says. She smiles.

***

By the time it is too dark to really see the small pieces of debris on the floor and both of them have suffered small cuts to their fingers, they decide to stop for the day. They have made much progress. When he tells her that he had electricity in his quarters that morning, she offers to help with supper preparations in return for a hot shower. He has absolutely no objections.

It is quite late before she returns to her dorm room.

**Thursday**

By the end of the day on Thursday, they have most of the debris cleared and the electricity is back on almost everywhere on campus. As they lock up the lab, they make plans to begin checking equipment the next morning. They will not even go to the office. They go to the Indian restaurant for dinner and sit and talk, so tired. He walks her back to her dorm in the dusk and tells her not to stay up studying, but go to sleep early. He is obviously worried at her tiredness. She is afraid that she knows the cause, and once inside determines that she is correct. Well, crap, there goes the weekend!

**Spock**

**Friday 0800**

When Nyota walks into the message array lab, he knows immediately what her problem is. He recognizes that droopy look. He crosses the lab and stands behind her, helping her out of her jacket. When she reaches to hang it up, he places his hands on her hips, just below her waist, and begins to knead the tight muscles there. She leans into his hands and relaxes, sighing. He has helped her, then, very good. Although his plans for this evening are now drastically changed.

***

By the end of the day, they have checked out over half the modules in the lab. New consoles will be delivered on Monday. There is still much work to do, but it will wait until the weekend is over. They must rest - _she_ must rest, and the only way he will get her to do so, is to be with her and enforce it. They lock up the lab and walk across the campus. He steers her straight to his quarters.

"Spock, I need to go change out of my uniform. I want something more comfortable to wear."

"I will provide." He was adamant.

She was confused, but did not protest any more.

When they reached his quarters and removed their boots, he went into the bedroom. From one of his dresser drawers, he pulled out a regulation tee-shirt and handed it to her. In the back of his closet he found the loose pants that he had purchased by mistake and never returned - the ones that were too small. These he also handed to her. She sat down on his bed and started to remove her uniform, folding the pieces into a neat pile. While he watched her, he removed his own uniform and hung it in the closet, dressing in clothing similar to what he had given her. She removed her bra, folding it on top of her uniform, then pulled the tee-shirt over her head. Then she pulled the pants onto her legs before standing up and pulling them over her hips and tying the drawstring. He knelt at her feet and rolled up the bottoms of the legs around her ankles so that she would not trip. She looked so tired still, but she must eat before she slept. He led her to the table and sat her down there while he made tea, bringing her a steaming cup to sip while he sliced fruit. He set a container of yoghurt and the plate of fruit on the table before her, brought her a spoon and a fork. Then he sat and watched while she ate, barely awake. When she had finished, he came and lifted her out of the chair, carrying her into the bedroom. At the last minute, instead of laying her on the bed, he set her on her feet in front of the bathroom door. While she was inside, he pulled the covers back on the bed so that when she came out he could settle her there. He put her in the middle of bed and settled down beside her, rolling her over on her side and curling around behind her to keep her warm. He flipped the blanket into the air so that it would settle over them and tucked it about her. Then he softly stroked the side of her face, murmuring softly to her, urging her into sleep. It did not take long.

He lay there beside her for an hour, until he was absolutely certain that she was in a deep sleep. Then he carefully arose from the bed, tucking the blanket closely around her to keep her back warm. He went back into the living room and activated his com unit. When her Orion roommate appeared, he spoke. "Cadet Uhura is ill. I have worked her too hard making repairs in the lab. Do not worry about her, I will take care of her. If you need to contact her for any _important _reason, you may do so. Otherwise, I would appreciate it if you let her rest."

"Understood, Commander. Do you need me to bring anything of hers to you?"

He thought for a moment. "I believe she would like some casual clothing. And clean underwear. Thank you for your consideration."

"I'll be there shortly, sir." She cut the connection. _Oh, Nyota, that guy is so gone_. She went immediately to Nyota's closet and pulled out pants and a pullover shirt that she knew Nyota wore when she was going to pull a long study session - clothes that were comfortable and loose. She added underwear - just the plain white ones Nyota nearly always wore. Then thought of something else and went into the bathroom to retrieve the small blue box sitting on the counter and added that to the pile. She stuffed it all in a carrybag and started for the door, stopping just before opening it. Nyota had come back from Commander Spock's quarters in different clothing Monday night. Those clothes must have _already_ been over there. She wasn't sure how they had gotten there originally, but she knew Nyota had just done her laundry. She checked the pile of folded clothing stacked on the end of Nyota's bed and found the shirt and pants she remembered, adding them to the carrybag, then set out for the building where Commander Spock's quarters were. When she tapped the touch plate at his door, he opened the door almost immediately, took the carrybag from her, thanked her for her effort and started to close the door.

"Commander, how is Nyota?" She would have sworn that there was irritation on his face.

"She is sleeping. She is worn out. She has been working very hard to help clean up the lab every day since the earthquake. I failed to insure that she had adequate rest and nutrition. It is my fault. I will see that she rests all weekend and provide her with proper nutrition, so that she will function better next week." His head turned towards the back of the apartment. When he spoke again, his voice was lower. "Please do not waken her, Cadet. If I need any further assistance, I will contact you. I do thank you for your assistance." With that he closed the door.

Once Nyota's roommate had left, he prepared a simple supper for himself and then set down at the table to grade some of the PADDs that had accumulated while he was busy cleaning up the lab. He kept one ear tuned to the bedroom, but she was still sleeping, her breath even. After several hours, he slipped back into the bed beside her, wrapping her in his arms and drifting off to sleep himself.

**Nyota**

Nyota drifted awake, very warm. She felt like she was wrapped in a heating pad. A heavy one. She slowly opened her eyes. Where was she? It took her a moment to recognize Spock's bedroom. Ah, then that heavy hot weight across her ribs was Spock's arm. She had been so tired. She vaguely remembered Spock making her eat something and then tucking her in bed. Surely he hadn't been here the whole time? She knew he didn't sleep nearly as much as she did. She _really_ needed to pee. Could she untangle without waking him up? She turned the blanket back, then rolled over onto her stomach, scooting towards the edge of the bed, out from under Spock's arm. Before she could get her feet on the floor, his hand closed over her arm.

"Where are you going, Nyota? It is not morning yet. You need more sleep."

"Spock, let me go. I need to pee."

"Oh." His hand released her arm. "Is this something that you normally do in the middle of the night?"

"Occasionally." She got her feet planted on the floor and stood up, abruptly sitting down on the edge of the bed as dizziness overtook her. "Whoa, headrush."

Spock instantly sat up and closed his hand back over her arm. The back of his other hand touched her forehead, feeling for fever. No, she was her normal temperature.

She took a couple of breaths, then slowly stood up. "Okay, I'm good now, you can let loose, I don't think I'm going to fall over."

He released her, but watched closely as she slowly walked around the bed and into the bathroom.

When she came out of the bathroom, he had rolled over and flipped the blanket back, making room for her on the closer side of the bed. She slid down onto the bed and snuggled up against him, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling her face up against his neck. He spread his right hand across her back, molding her against him, his face in her hair.

"Are you feeling better, Nyota?"

"Yes, and I'm going to go back to sleep, too. Thanks for taking care of me, Spock, it makes me feel very protected."

"It is my duty and honor to protect you." His voice was very soft in her ear. She sighed and relaxed against him, slipping quickly back into sleep. He lay there awake, softly stroking her hair, for some time.

***

The next time she woke up, soft sunlight was filling the room. She was alone in the bed. She stretched, feeling so much better. She got up and padded over to the bathroom again. When she came back out, Spock was standing in the living room door.

"Have you slept well, Nyota?"

"Oh, yes, very well indeed. I feel much better." Her stomach rumbled. "But very hungry." She grinned at him.

"I have prepared nourishment for you. Come."

She followed him to the table. She sat in her customary chair, caressed the tabletop and smiled. She looked up and found his eyes on her.

One eyebrow rose high, the corners of his lips quirked up. "I have thoroughly cleaned the table, Nyota."

She couldn't help it, she laughed out loud, rocking back and forth in her chair. She wiped tears out of her eyes. "I was sure that you had, Spock. I was just remembering..." her voice faded and she blushed.

"It is a very nice memory." His voice was soft and husky.

"Yes." She straightened up and looked back at him. "But I think I remember something about food?"

He turned to the kitchen and came back with a plate, which he set before her. Small bread rolls, cheese, fruit, a container of yoghurt.

"Spock, that's a lot of food."

"You have not eaten anything in 16 hours, 24 minutes, and 33 seconds. It is not too much food."

"I was asleep that long? I didn't realize I was _that_ tired." She started with a piece of cheese in one hand and bread in the other. Before very long, the plate was empty. Satisfied, Spock took the empty plate to the kitchen and set it in the sink. He came back to the table and sat down. She watched him. For some reason, although he was not moving at all, he looked_ fidgety_. He also looked very uncomfortable. She waited for him to speak. Finally, he raised his head and looked straight into her eyes.

"Nyota, I .. I have not done this before."

"Done what before?" She wanted him to be quite explicit, with no misunderstandings.

"All of this - the things we do together - I have no experience to guide me. Human practices are very different than Vulcan ones. I often do not know whether what I _wish_ to do is appropriate. I am .. " he paused, took a deep breath. "afraid... at times, that what I do is not what you expect. That almost certainly I am _not_ doing something that you _do_ expect."

She reached across the table to where his hands were clasped together, gently prizing his fingers apart, hooking the first two fingers of her right hand around the first two fingers of his. He looked down at their clasped fingers, then back at her, startled. "Spock, feel my emotions." She watched his face as the expression in his eyes changed subtly, several times. Then saw tiny muscles relax around his eyes, his mouth. "Okay, now go on. I'm listening."

"There are things that we must discuss. I ask that you tell me if it is not appropriate to bring these things up at this time. I will abide by your wishes - although I do feel that it is important to discuss these things." He looked at her for a moment, his eyes unfocused briefly, then refocused, he nodded. "Each year at my Academy physical, they do perform checks for ... sexually transmitted diseases. Although there has never been a need for it, still they do it. And I have always been clean." He paused, took another breath. "They also administer the standard contraceptive injections." He paused again, dropped his eyes. "I do not know whether these are necessary. I am a hybrid. This often results in infertility." He shuddered. When he resumed, his voice was quite low. "If this is important to you now or at any time, I will submit to the necessary testing."

"Spock, look at me, please." He slowly raised his eyes to her face. She could see how it pained him to discuss these things, his eyes looked _wounded_. "I have never had any sexually transmitted disease. I have never had my fertility checked, either. I have no desire to become pregnant any time soon - I need to graduate and establish my career before I can even _think_ about that. That time is _years_ off. It is not anything that needs to be determined at this time, okay?" She saw real relief in his eyes. "Now about the contraceptives." She paused again. "I have never had the contraceptive shots, I always refuse them. Maybe that's stupid, but I just didn't want my own hormones mucked with." She was quiet a moment. "I told you that I wasn't very experienced, either. I...I haven't been with anyone since I was in high school. And I was _so _careful then. I just wanted to find out what it was all about - and I wasn't very impressed with the whole thing to tell you the truth." She watched him cock his head and raise his eyebrows. She laughed softly. "Oh, Spock, _who _you do it with makes _so_ much difference."

He looked at her, obviously considering what to say. "Nyota, it is my understanding that the contraceptives work better when both partners use them."

"Yes, that's true."

"Are you not 'playing with fire' then?"

"It wasn't anything that needed care, Spock. It just wasn't necessary."

"But now?"

"Yes, now is different. I will have to think about it now."

He nodded, sat quietly. She waited. She didn't think he was finished. Briefly he ran his fingers down the sides of her, then curled then around hers again. After some time, he spoke again. "It was not acceptable for me to mark you where it was visible when you are in uniform. I do apologize. You were correct when you said I was not being discrete. I do not have any desire to affect your career in any detrimental fashion. If I attempt to do such a thing again, I hope that you will stop me."

"I don't think it will be a problem in the future, Spock. I think you understand why I was so angry and you will not do that again." She paused, then continued. "And I must do the same. I am sure you would be very uncomfortable if people asked questions about the condition I left your ear in." She grinned at him, at the dark green tint to his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. "Do you have more questions?"

"Not at this time. Although I do anticipate that there may be times in the future when more questions present themselves."

"Okay, I want to take a nice hot shower then, if that's okay?" She squeezed his hands and rose from the table. She was half way to the bedroom when she realized that he was not following her. She looked back over her shoulder at him, "Aren't you going to come wash my hair for me?"

He jumped up, then stopped. He wet his lips, looked at her, uncertainty plain in his face.

"Just wash my hair - nothing else. No sex today."

Now he came across the room towards her, understanding what was offered.

**Spock**

**Sunday evening**

He had escorted her back to her dorm room, certain that she was rested now. He had also made it plain that she would only work in the lab for two hours each morning - the two hours that he was not teaching a class. If the array was not back on line by Friday morning, they would work there for four hours, but no more. She had agreed. He was not totally sure that she really meant it, but she _had_ agreed.

**Monday evening**

After supper, they sat on the couch and he played his ka'athyra for her. She sang three songs to his accompaniment, one hand flat against his thigh, guiding him. It was excellent. Afterwards they meditated before he walked her back to her dorm. He missed the touching, the kissing. He had been afraid to start anything, afraid he would not be able to stop. She was still using the items in the little blue box. He had counted.

**Friday afternoon late**

They were shopping. Together. Not just two people in the same store, but going down the aisles together, consulting each other about what they were buying. A first - one of many recently. She had a list which she was consulting, finding the items, dropping them into the basket he carried, crossing them off. He followed where she led, finding that he enjoyed this new experience much more than anticipated.

The basket held green onions and pungent larger yellow ones, plump peppers in several colors, bright red tomatoes, a very large eggplant so dark a purple that it was almost black, sprigs of fresh basil and oregano, a head of garlic, a round of cheese in a protective covering that said it was made from buffalo milk - she was planning to cook something interesting.

Now she was hovering over a large display of bread, looking first at one loaf, then another. He could not see that there was that much difference between the long round breads she was considering - not like the vegetables that differed much in shape and size - these were all very similar. But she was humming softly to herself, enjoying the selection process, so he just waited and enjoyed watching _her_.

She finally chose a loaf of bread, sliding it into a paper bag before depositing it in the basket. Now she turned to him. "You have butter, right?"

He nodded. He kept butter now, for her. As well as other things.

"Okay, off to the non-perishables then." She found the aisle she wanted, chose a bottle, handed it to him.

Headache remedy. He remembered her rubbing her forehead this morning while grading papers. He would have to teach her how to relieve that herself, without the need to resort to medication. He knew how she distrusted medication. But for now, he dropped the bottle in the basket. She was looking down the aisle, trying to find something. On the shelf beside him, he recognized something she kept in his quarters. There were very few left. His hand reached out.

"No. Don't get those."

His hand paused, still suspended. Only she might have seen the slight stiffening of his shoulders, the tension in the muscles on the side of his neck.

"I...I had the shot." Her voice was very low, hesitant. "I won't need them so often."

Startled, he turned to face her. "For _me_?"

"For _US_. So you wouldn't worry."

The hand that had reached toward the shelf, still suspended in the air, now drew near hers holding the list between them. Gently he drew his fingers down the side of her hand in a soft caress. "That was exceptionally considerate of you, Nyota."

She bit her lip, hesitating. "I should have done it before. Everyone else does." She shrugged, uncomfortable, then moved on down the aisle, consulting her list.

He followed behind. She had done this for HIM. Something she had resisted until now, something she had refused each year at her Academy physical. He was deeply moved. After supper, he would show her how moved.


	8. Chapter 8: Hold Me Tight

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Eight : Hold Me Tight**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late February - Early March 2258**

**Friday evening**

Spock found that he liked eggplant parmesan very much, although it was not nearly as spicy as some of the other dishes that Nyota cooked for him. The garlic bread had been _very_ good. He was glad that there was enough left of both that he could have another helping later. He carefully spooned the remains of the casserole into a container and into the fridge. Then he helped Nyota with the dishes and kitchen cleanup.

He went to the music player and inserted several pre-selected discs, cueing them up so that music would play for several hours without his attention. Soft music filled the room. He dimmed the lights to 20 percent. He made sure the door was locked and the com unit set to silent answer. He heard water. He went into the bedroom and saw flames reflected in the bathroom mirror. Curious, he crossed the room and observed Nyota lighting candles she had placed on the counter beside the sink. She turned to him and smiled. He hid his smile - she was helping him and she was not even aware of it.

"I thought that a shower would be nice." She looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"Yes, it would be quite acceptable." He stood, looking down at her. She attempted to go past him into the bedroom, but he did not move out of her way.

"Spock, let me out of the bathroom so that I can undress." She pushed against his chest gently with both her hands.

"That will not be necessary, Nyota. I will be pleased to perform that service for you."

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "Oookay. I guess that's... all right." she seemed to be a bit unsure.

"I promise that you will enjoy it, Nyota." His voice was soft, smooth, husky with desire. His fingers brushed the side of her face, causing little sparks against her skin. She sighed. He bent and brushed his lips against her forehead, then against her temple. His hands curved over her shoulders, brushed softly down her arms. He grasped the hem of both sleeves and pulled upwards, sliding her arms out of her sweater. Then he reached down for the hem and pulled her sweater slowly up her body until it was pooled around her neck. Carefully, he gathered the fabric up and pulled it over her face, then back over the top of her head and away from her body. He carefully folded her sweater and set it on the counter, careful not to put it too close to any of the candles. He ran his hands down her arms again, soothing her skin. She sighed again. He kissed her softly along her hairline. His hands dropped to the waistband of her slacks, undoing the fastener, letting the fabric slide over her hips and pool around her ankles. Sliding one arm around her waist, he lifted first one knee and then the other, freeing her feet from her garment. He picked up her slacks, folded them, and stacked them on top of her sweater. He ran his hands down her sides, from armpits to knees, stroking softly. She sighed again, wavering slightly. Her eyes were drifting closed. He slid his hands around her back, unfastening her bra and slid it down off her shoulders, away from her body. Gently he pulled first one hand and then the other free, folded the bra and set it on top of her slacks. He took her hands and set them at his waist, one on either side. He grasped the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, folded it and set it on top of the stack of clothing. She swayed before him, her hands holding lightly to his waist. He undid the fastening of his slacks and let them drop. Using one foot, he scooped them up, retrieved them, and folded them, placing them on the stack of clothing. She leaned against him, her bare breasts brushing his chest, moaning slightly. He ran his hands down her back, cupping her bottom in his hands. She raised her face to him and he softly kissed her cheeks, brushed her lips softly with his. Her scent was _so good_. He hooked his hands in the top of her little white panties and pulled them down over her hips, down her legs, tapped her feet to get her to raise them, laid the panties on the counter. She moved then, sliding her hands down his sides, under his briefs, moving them down his legs so slowly. She handed him his briefs and he added them to the pile of clothes.

"Shower on very warm, waterfall effect." He opened the door of the shower stall and turned her, moving her towards the water. He entered after her, closing the door, and drew her into the middle of the water, letting it sluice over her in a warm stream. When he had her wet all over, he pulled her back up against him and began to kiss her, starting at her hairline and progressing down, covering every inch of her skin until her arrived at her ankles, then turning her around and working back up to the nape of her neck. By then she was swaying and moaning, and her smell was so intoxicating that he could barely function. He slid his hands around her body, cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples, rubbing against her bottom.

"Spock, ah Spock. You're making me feel so good and I want you so much. Hurry, Spock, please." Her voice was so low, vibrating, full of desire.

He was shaking now, control slipping. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself again. He ran one hand down the front of her body, down between her legs, and began to stroke her, gently, softly. She moaned louder, spreading her feet apart to give him better access. Her moans became louder and she was moving against him, rubbing against him, and he could stand it no longer. Turning her about, he slid his hands under her bottom and lifted her up against him. She slid her legs about his waist, overlapping her ankles behind him and pulled herself toward him. He adjusted the height at which he held her until he felt himself slip inside her waiting warmth. He held her clasped closely to him, relishing the feel of her all about him. She laid her face against his chest, the top of her head just under his chin and began to move against him, her hips going slowly back and forth, sliding on his length, causing such wonderful sensations. He spread his feet further apart, trying to balance. He found he could not move and balance at the same time, so just stood there and let her move against him, so slowly, until he was shaking so hard that he knew he would fall in a moment. He rotated, moving one foot and leaned his shoulders back against the wall of the shower stall. Now he could move with her. He drew his hips back as she retreated from him and came rushing back as she did. She gasped once, then turned her face and bit him hard right at the place where his neck met his shoulder. With a great roar he emptied himself into her as she convulsed about him.

He held her until all the wonderful ripples of ecstasy died away. She had her head on his shoulder, her arms around his neck, her legs still locked about his waist. She was so soft and lax in his arms. "Water off." He carefully stepped out of the shower, then lowered her until her feet were on the floor. He picked up one of the towels she had laid out and began to dry her off, rubbing gently. Then he dried himself while she swayed in front of him, one hand going out now and then to hold on to him and regain her balance. When he was sufficiently dry, he picked her up again, one arm under her knees and one behind her back, and carried her to the bed. He spread her still wet hair out over the pillow and knelt between her legs. Then he began to enflame her again with soft touches and gentle brushes of his lips, working his way down her body until he came to that part of her that was so warm and wet. He stretched out on his stomach and put his nose almost against her, inhaling deeply. _His Nyota_. With gentle fingers and soft tongue, he caressed her, finding all the spots he remembered from previous explorations, until she was shuddering and begging. He found that small bud and closed his lips over it, tugging, and felt her convulse, bucking her hips up against his mouth. She was chanting his name over and over again. When her shudders stopped, he inserted his fingers in her and moved them against her until she convulsed again. She did not stop moaning the entire time, except when she was crying out his name. He was so hard it was painful. When she lay still again, He raised himself and moved up her body until he could impale her. She gasped and arched under him, moving with him, and when he could no longer move in long gentle slides within her and must shudder and roar at her, she joined him once again, clutching him so tightly and shuddering so hard and long that he came once again, before he even had time to recover from the first.

**Monday, 1230**

Spock finished grading the last student paper on his desk. He recorded the grade and then lifted his briefcase to the top of the desk, considering what he would take to his quarters. He was surprised when a cadet entered his office. Normally there were few cadets in the building between 1200 and 1300. He looked up from the PADDs spread across his desk to see Nyota's roommate standing in front of his desk. "Cadet."

"Commander Spock, sir, I wonder whether I might have a word with you."

Having no idea what she had in mind, Spock was a bit uneasy. This young woman was very uncontrolled. However, knowing how much Nyota liked her, he was prepared to be tolerant. "Please be seated, Cadet..."

"Gaila, sir." She seated herself in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. "I hope you won't take this the wrong way, sir, but I want to help."

Now Spock was very confused. How could this cadet possibly _help_ him? Well, she had helped him twice now, bringing things for Nyota to his quarters. But that was hardly the case here. He blinked his eyes, mentally shook his head. One eyebrow rose as he regarded the cadet.

Watching him, Gaila continued. "I know that you are very interested in literature from many different cultures and do a lot of research."

Well, there was no denying that those statements were true. But he could hardly see how she could _help_ him in those areas. "Yes, cadet, those are interests of mine."

Gaila reached into her carrybag and withdrew a flat rectangular object, wrapped in an opaque cover. She laid it on the desk in front of him. "I found this book that I thought might be of interest to you."

Curious now, he reached for the book, but was stopped by the cadet's hand on the other edge, holding it in place. "Please, sir, do not open it here. Put it in your briefcase and take it to your quarters."

His eyebrow rose again. He tilted his head slightly to the side and regarded the cadet. This statement was much like the one Nyota had made when she gave him the Valentine. Surely this cadet did not have romantic feelings for him?

Gaila smiled at him and removed her fingers from the book. "I love Nyota so much. She's the best friend I've ever had. She was the only one who really made an effort to see that I fit in when I arrived here. I _really_ want her to be happy. So please take this and read it all the way through. I'm sure you'll find much of interest there." She grinned widely and rose from the chair.

Spock looked from the book to the cadet, not exactly sure what was going on. He considered for a moment, then took the book and laid it in his briefcase. With an excited bounce, the cadet turned and left his office. He wished he knew exactly what was going on.

**Monday, 1600**

He sat at the table in his quarters. Nyota would be here shortly. But perhaps he had time to see what it was that her roommate had given him before she arrived. He took the small wrapped book out of his briefcase and slit the wrapping. He looked at the cover of the book - interesting writing on the cover, he did not recognize these symbols. He opened the cover and turned several pages before finding a page in Standard - the name of this book was apparently Kama Sutra. He looked at the table of contents to see whether he could determine the purpose of the book. He was stunned. There appeared to be a selection of graphics, for there was a table of illustrations. He flipped through the book until he found it. He sat there, slowly turning pages, totally absorbed in what he saw before him. He did not even hear the door open. When he heard Nyota's boots drop on the floor, he actually started. He hastily closed the book and slid it back into his briefcase as she crossed the room, carrying a bag of groceries into the kitchen. Research, indeed.

*******

After supper, instead of settling on the couch, she tugged him into the bedroom. He did not resist.

***

"What are you doing, Spock?"

"Cataloging." He sat cross-legged, beside her, touching her with only one finger.

"Um, that was nice." She reacted to his touch, smiled softly. "What are you cataloging?"

"You." He touched again, stroking softly. "Here?"

"Wha.. Yes, yes, there."

"Here?"

"Oh, ah, yessss."

He applied soft pressure.

"Harder." She hissed softly.

"Like this?"

"Aahhhh. Yes."

Choosing another spot, he bent over and licked her with his tongue. Her back arched up off the bed and she moaned. His lips quirked up. He gently closed his teeth over the point in question, tugged gently.

"Gah!" Goosebumps spread out from the point of contact, flesh puckered.

One long finger caressed softly around a curve, leaving trails of fire. She moaned at him. He continued his cataloging, rolling her over to access other spots. She was soft and pliant, enjoying his attentions. "Here."

"No."

He cocked his head. He remembered something. He moved his finger a bit, pressed again.

"No, Spock, not there."

"But.."

"No." She was insistent.

He removed the pressure. If she did not want this, he would be certain to remember. But he was sure that she had responded to that before. Perhaps it took a certain amount of excitation to activate that spot.

After a few more touches, he rolled her back over to her back. He lifted one knee, set her foot flat on the bed, pushed gently on the elevated knee, bending it to the side, opening her before his gaze. Again, one finger touched softly. "Here." His voice was getting huskier as he found it more and more difficult to subdue his reaction to touching her.

"Aaaahh. Yes." She was very damp.

"Here." The finger caressed.

"Yesyesyes."

The finger slid softly into her, probing. "Here?"

"That's not it. Close. Good." She was panting.

The finger moved, touched again. "Here?"

"Al...most."

His brow furrowed. He considered. He inserted another finger. Now he was sure he had the right point. "Here." No question.

She bowed up off the bed, convulsing around his fingers. Yes, that was it. He smiled.

**Friday, 2200**

They had gone into the city, to a restaurant that came highly recommended. The food had been good, not exceptional, but highly overpriced, apparently to pay for the gaudy surroundings. Leaving, they had evidently taken a wrong turn. The transit station was _there_, but the streets did not head in that direction. This part of the city was older, falling into decay, and the street lights in working order were few and far between. Nyota was becoming a bit uneasy, and had drawn closer to him, tucking one hand into the crook of his elbow. Perhaps they should just turn back the way they had come. But they were no more than two blocks from the transit station, if they could only find a street headed in the right direction.

Something did not feel right. He stopped, swiveling his head. The night was suddenly too still. He was about to tell Nyota to turn around and head back up the street when they were suddenly surrounded. Five - no, six - men, jeering, taunting - the flash of light on a knife blade. His knees and elbows bent automatically, as he balanced on the balls of his feet, ready. "Defense." he whispered to Nyota in Vulcan, but she was already mimicking his posture. He turned slightly away from her as she did the same, putting their backs together.

He must warn these men, give them a chance. "You do not know who you are dealing with. I tell you that we are well trained and you stand no chance against us. Leave now."

More jeers, taunts. One of the men, more stupid than the others, decided that a woman made a good target and lunged at Nyota. One arm lashed out and connected hard. That sounded like a bone breaking. Good. There was a loud scream and the man backed away, holding his arm.

"Circle." One word, spoken low, in Vulcan. She slid slowly sideways, he followed. She waited, cautious. He had no doubts in her ability, nor did he expect her to do anything foolish, to be aggressive. He well remembered that afternoon last fall when her class had been assessed. She had been the only cadet to make it to his mat that had not attacked. He expected no less from her tonight.

From the corner of his eye, he saw movement. Turning swiftly, his arm lashed out, colliding solidly with a face. That man would not be breathing well from _that_ nose any time soon. The man in question fell back with both hands raised to his face, wailing.

Again, he attempted reason. "You cannot prevail. Disperse." His words had no effect. He smelled _rage_ in the air. This time two men charged, one from each side. His leg swept out, his foot connecting with a kneecap, at the same time as one fist caught the other man in the chest, dropping him to the ground. Behind him, he felt Nyota moving, heard another loud _thump_, and a wail of pain. Only one opponent left, then.

He turned, so that both of them faced the last man standing there, who suddenly decided that perhaps he had had enough. The knife clanged to the ground and the man turned and ran. He swiveled about, scanning for more assailants, other danger. The other men had fled while their attention was focused on the last one standing.

Beside him, Nyota slowly straightened up, breathing only slightly heavier than normal. "Excellent." He touched her lightly on the shoulder and she grinned at him. "Now let us get to the transit station, quickly." He gestured across the street, took her arm, and ran lightly to the fence surrounding the house directly across from them. He lifted Nyota up over the fence and vaulted after her. They ran through the yard, quickly climbed the fence at the back, and ran across the yard on the other side of the street. Crossing the next street quickly, they repeated their maneuvers and found themselves on the sidewalk, facing across from the transit station. Slowing down, they walked into the light.

Standing on the platform, he lifted her hands to examine them. A few small cuts, some abraded skin. Nothing serious. He would clean these wounds as soon as they reached his quarters. He raised his eyes to her face, saw her eyes large and shining, her face flushed enough that it was slightly visible. As he inhaled, he caught her scent, _aroused_. He lifted one eyebrow at her and she grinned.

Now she took his hands and examined them. She found some small damage to his knuckles. She turned them over and looked at the palms. He had not damaged his palms. She lightly ran one finger down the middle of his palm. He shivered. She grinned at him. _Where was the transit? _She smelled _very _good.

The light rail car pulled into the station and quickly they boarded. It would take fifteen minutes to reach the Academy station. They were alone in the car. He teetered on the edge of committing a very large error. At the very last possible second, he regained control. They stood close together, holding onto the straps descending from the ceiling. She placed one hand flat on his chest, looking up into his face. "Are you all right, Spock?"

"Yes. Barely. You were in danger." His heartbeat was still faster than normal.

"Not with you there." She was still smiling up at him. "Just pissed. And you got to whomp one more of them than I did."

His lips quirked up at her. He loved her warrior spirit. Just so long as it was not _him_ she was mad it. He didn't really want to be on the receiving end of her anger ever again.

The train pulled in to the transit station and they quickly exited, heading down the pathway they knew so well. It only took a few minutes for them to reach his quarters and there was barely time for him to command the door to lock and the lights to come on dimly before she was in his arms, pulling at his clothes, biting his neck. It seemed she had found the battle excellent foreplay. He had no complaints.

***

When she was frantic for completion, pulling and tugging at him, he remembered one of the pictures from that book her roommate had brought him and he rolled over onto his back, taking her with him, hands drawing her knees down beside his hips, then sliding up to her hips, holding her above him, lowering her so slowly, until she screamed at him to hurry, up, SPOCK!

When he was sheathed completely within her, she arched her back, moving her hips against his, sighing so deeply, eyes closed. Then she leaned forward and clasped her hands on his shoulders and began to rock against him, moaning with each breath. Through her hands on his shoulders he could _feel_ her delight. He slid his hands from her hips up her sides, around to her back, up to her shoulders, then back around her sides to cup her breasts. He could _feel_ her response, like currents of electricity through her body. His fingers closed over her nipples, squeezing. Twin bolts of heat coursed down deep within her body to point where they were joined. With his last intelligent thought he opened his hands and dropped them from her body before he thrust up hard into her, filled with light and heat and ecstasy. He hardly knew which of them had sparked that, but both were consumed.

After some indeterminable amount of time, she began to fold down against him, slowly bending her body until she rested against completely his body, her arms up over his shoulders, her fingertips barely touching the sides of his head behind his ears, her face turned into his neck, her breath against his skin. He lifted his hands from the bed, sure that now he would not hold too tightly and harm her, and wrapped them around her, holding her so close to him. They both still struggled to return their breathing to normal, hearts still pounding. Whether it was the shared danger or the new position or the combination he did not know, but this had been outstanding.


	9. Chapter 9: Lay Lady Lay

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Nine : Lay Lady Lay**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid March 2258**

**Monday, 1215**

Mid-term week is starting. She has been studying so hard. She will be tired when it is over. He needs to do something for her, something special.

He sits at his desk in his office. His computer screen is lit before him. He is searching for something, but he is not finding what he wants. His search terms are not correct.

He thinks about who he could ask for help in this matter. The only person who occurs to him he will not approach with this question. It is to be a surprise. However, it finally occurs to him that he has heard discussions of similar topics between young male cadets in the past. Perhaps he can eavesdrop?

He shuts down his computer and heads for the mess hall. He obtains a small plate of food and scans the tables. He selects a table in an area of the hall where he seldom sits because it is always full of rowdy young males talking loudly. He sees a face he remembers and seats himself at the next table, with his back to the young males there. He pretends to eat the food on his plate while he listens very carefully.

"Well, Jim, which young lovely do you plan to conquer this weekend and how to you do plan to accomplish it?"

"Now, Bones, you make it sound like I don't really care for the young ladies."

"Well I don't suppose I think that you do. There's a new one every time I turn around. You don't seem to stick around for seconds."

"What would be the fun in that, now, I ask you? You need to sample life to the fullest while you're young! Wouldn't hurt you to loosen up some, you know. You're not dead _yet_."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've had my fill. But you didn't answer my question."

"I found a lovely young thing in the computer science lab. A double handful, if you know what I mean. And she's raring to go. I rented one of those cabins up north on the coast, you know the ones set in little groves of trees, all cozy and private, with a beach close so you can go skinny dipping. And I called ahead and had the kitchen stocked with food and liquor, so we don't even have to leave the bedroom for the whole weekend."

"You do think of everything, don't you?"

He had heard all he needed to, perhaps more than he needed. He rose from the table, dropping his tray in the recycle slot on the way out, and returned to his office. He had his search terms now.

**Thursday**

"We're going away for the whole weekend?"

_She appeared to be astonished. Had he overstepped? Was this not acceptable?_

Then her hand reaches up and caresses the side of his face. Her eyes sparkle, her muscles of her face soften, her scent shifts subtly - the beginnings of arousal are obvious. _Acceptable, then_.

"Where are we going? What do I need to bring? I may need to do some shopping."

"Our destination is to be a surprise."

Her mouth shapes a little oh of astonishment. "A surprise? My, my. Okay, but what kind clothes do I need to bring?"

His voice is soft, husky. "You will need no clothing, Nyota." Her skin temperature rises 2.3 degrees, her heart beat increases 10.7 percent, yes definitely signs of arousal. His idea has been _very_ good then.

"Oookay, then. But surely I need to bring _some_ things? Shower gel, maybe?" She has a very mischievous grin on her face.

Now_ his_ temperature climbs. His voice lowers a bit, huskier. "Shower gel would be welcome." He pauses, thinking about a night he still remembers, thinks about often. "Perhaps ... Would it be possible .... Do you think you might be able to find some peppermint bark?"

She inhales sharply. "You _remember_ that night?"

"Yes, Nyota. Every minute." He waits.

She has a faraway look in her eyes. She is thinking. She looks back up at him. "Maybe just a little."

"I believe that one piece should be sufficient."

**Friday**

They met at the transit station across from the campus, took the train into the heart of the city. There they picked up the small civilian shuttle he had reserved. He stowed their small bags in the cargo net and sealed the hatch. She sat in the navigator's seat and took the communications control unit from its socket and inserted it in her ear. He started the checklist. She pulled the flight plan from the data disc he handed her and filed it with air traffic control. They worked together with calm efficiency, like they had done this every day for years. She would be like this on the bridge of the Enterprise, he did not doubt it. So controlled, so proficient, she would be a delight to work with. Soon. In the meantime, there was a totally different adventure starting. He was looking forward to it with great anticipation.

***

The flight was not long. They settled down in the marked spot. He unsealed the hatch and retrieved their bags. He stepped out and reached back to assist her. He watched her closely as she surveyed the small cabin, the tall trees, the glint of water on the other side of the cabin. Her eyes widened, her mouth curved up in a smile, she looked at him with happiness radiating from her. He had done well, then.

He walked over the cabin door, entered the code he had been given on the touch plate there. He door opened. He set the bags down on the step beside the door and swept her up in his arms, carried her across the threshold.

"Spock?"

"Yes, my Nyota?"

She looked at him, her eyes sparkling. "This is so romantic." Her hand caressed his face. "Thank you so much."

He practically purred with contentment.

**Nyota**

She wandered through the small cabin, looking at everything. Nice living room with a big fireplace, thick soft rug on the floor in front of it. Bar between it and the small kitchen. Nice sized bedroom with a BIG bed - through it a bathroom with a large shower - she poked her head in - with TWO shower heads. Back into the kitchen - open the fridge - lots of fruits and veggies, yoghurt, cheese, several bottles of wine. A box sitting on the counter held bread, some pasta, olive oil, rice, some seasonings. She opened the back door - small patio with a built-up planter around the edge, a couple of comfortable looking wooden chairs, a pathway leading down to a small, sandy beach. Very nice. She turned back towards the cabin and saw Spock coming down the pathway towards her. When he reached her, she gave him a large smile. "Very, very nice. You put some real thought into this and that makes it so very special to me."

His lips quirked up at her. "What would you like to do first?"

She looked back at the sandy beach, then to him. "Swim?"

He looked almost alarmed. "In the ocean?"

"Yes." She looked at him hard. "Haven't you ever swum in the ocean, Spock?"

"No." He paused. 'It is cold. There are waves, tides, currents. It is not safe, Nyota."

She sat down on the sand and pulled off her boots. She stood up and quickly stripped out of her clothes and ran laughing into the water. When she was hip deep in the water, she turned and looked back at him where he stood on the sand. Oh, he was not happy now! She ducked down in the water and stood up again, dripping. She shook herself, sending water flying. He was watching her very closely. "Come on in, Spock!"

She danced along, wiggling in delight at his consternation. She _would_ get him to loosen up. She went a little further from shore, the water up to her waist now. He was a strong swimmer, there was no reason he should not swim in the ocean. Surely they would not have put this little beach here if there were any dangerous currents. She dived forward, under the water, swam until she needed to come up for air, then stood again, a considerable distance from where she had gone under. She looked towards the beach. Oh, no, he was frantic. He was starting towards the water, boots and all. "Spock, over here!"

His head whipped around, eyes large. When he saw her standing there, looking at him, he straightened up, stiffly. She dashed through the water and threw herself into his arms. "I'm sorry, Spock. I didn't mean to scare you. I've been swimming in the ocean all my life." He was wrapped around her, holding her so tightly. "I wasn't in any danger, I assure you." She lifted her hands to the back of his neck, rubbing softly. "I won't do it again, I promise. Come on, let's go inside. It _was_ cold." She stooped down and gathered up her clothing and started into the cabin.

His arm shot out, his hand about her upper arm. "Nyota."

She turned her face back to him, looked at him. Came back up close, her clothing piled in the her arms between them. "Spock."

He looked down at her. He was having difficulty speaking. He took a deep breath. "Please do not endanger yourself needlessly. I find that it is most disagreeable to me."

"I didn't consider it dangerous. I see now that you did and I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

He pulled her close again, clothing and all. "Yes." He held her almost too tight.

She didn't know what to do, how to reassure him. She was afraid that she had spoiled something wonderful. Carefully rearranging her clothing so that it was all held in one arm, she lifted her other hand to the side of his face, caressing gently. "Feel me, Spock."

His eyes were closed, his face tense.

She ran her fingers up the side of his face, laid them against his temple. He said it was easier to feel her, there. She watched carefully as the tension slowly eased, felt the pressure from his arms release slowly until she had room to breath again. He turned his face under her hand and gently kissed her palm.

"Thank you, Nyota. I fear I have over-reacted." His eyes opened, he looked down at her. "You are very cold. I think you need a hot shower."

She grinned widely at him. "Oh, yes, that would be lovely. And there are _two_ shower heads!"

**Spock**

They are on the soft rug before the fireplace, the flickering light from the flames dancing on their skin. He lays on his back on the rug and she sits beside him, feeding him very small bits of the peppermint bark. He knows she is watching him, watching for a reaction, and that she will stop feeding it to him if he reacts. Therefore he has his whole concentration focused on not betraying the growing feeling of _looseness_. He wants _all_ of the chocolate that she has in her hand, he wants the freedom it will give him. He has things he wants to say, to do, and the chocolate will allow him to do so. When she has finally placed the last morsel in his mouth and cannot get it back, he allows his face to relax and _smiles_ at her, wide and full. He hears her burbling laughter.

"Spock! You've been holding out on me."

"Yeeeessss." His smile is still wide, his eyes dance with mischief.

"And what are you going to do now, my Spock?" She leans over him, her hair loose and soft, hanging down around her face, sweeping across him, tantalizing.

He is suddenly sober, as sober as he can be. He does not want her to think this is only the chocolate. "I am going to love you, my Nyota."

And she sighs and twists her body so that she is laying beside and on him, touching, kissing - and everywhere she touches, everywhere their skin caresses one another, he can feel her love for him, pouring into him, filling him until he is so full that he wonders how she contains it all.

***

It is _different_ with the chocolate flowing through his system. Not _better_, just _different_. She is giggling again. Although he has found this fascinating, perhaps it is time for something else. He finds that he is very fond of her screaming "My Spock, MINE!" at him. He thinks perhaps it is time to elicit this response again. He is looking forward to it.

**Nyota**

She has her back to his chest, her thighs on top of his, the insides of her knees against the outsides of his, her toes pushing against the bed beside his feet. Her arms are raised and bent, her fingers stroking his ears. The back of her head pushes against his shoulder, her cheek against his jaw. She is moaning at him. His arms are around her, her breasts enclosed in his hands, rubbing her nipples between his fingers. He is reciting poetry to her, slowly, his voice low and heavy. All her little muscles clench about him in cadence with his voice. She is struggling desperately to last until the last line of the poem is finished. She does want to hear him speak those lines, but it is so difficult to wait when her whole body _screams_ for completion. His voice stumbles and falters, then with a quick breath, continues, almost to the end now. They both tremble, so so close. As the last word falls from his tongue, they are engulfed with white-hot ecstasy, trembling, shuddering, sharing.

***

She drifted in that hazy area between asleep and awake, every part of her so relaxed, so sated that was questionable whether she could have moved if she tried. He was warm against her back, curled around her, his arm over her waist holding her close to him. This was absolute perfection. There must have been some change in her breathing that signaled him, because she felt his warm breath in her ear.

"Nyota." Very low, in case she really wasn't awake.

"Umm." She wasn't sure she was awake enough to actually form words. She moved, just a little, waking muscles up, and felt him rising against her bottom. A sigh, she rubbed back against him, just a little, enough to let him know she felt him there. He moved also, rubbing the side of his face against hers, spreading his hand over her midriff, slowly moving up to the undersides of her breasts. She sighed again, melting back against him, undulating slowly, waking herself up. His hand slid higher, cupped one breast in warmth, one finger sliding over the nipple, waking it up, making it pucker and swell. His tongue dipped into her ear, heating her. "Ahhh." He made a very low sound, almost a growl, in return. Then he rolled backwards, carrying her with him, and rolled her over so that she lay atop him and his hands roamed down her back from shoulder to thigh, molding her against him. She could feel him throbbing against her belly. And suddenly she knew what she wanted, this time. She slid her hands down, twisting to one side, so that they rested flat on the bed, giving her leverage. Carefully she bent her knees, swinging them across his body to the other side.

**Spock**

He was confused. What was she doing? He had had her positioned where he wanted her, but she wasn't staying there. She was sideways across him now, but still moving. Her knees moved, up over his arm, now one hand lifted across his body, brushing against him, and the opposite knee moved over his face, close enough that he bent his neck, pushing the back of his head into the pillow. Now she hovered over him, bodies barely brushing, her breath cool against his fevered flesh. And she moved her bottom tantalizing close to his face. What did she intend? She moved slowly, softly against his body, rubbing her breasts against his belly, moving up and down, her bottom coming closer and close to his face. He inhaled deeply, pulling her scent into him. His hands rose and clasped her hips, pulling her even closer to his face, then slid down the front of her thighs and around to the inside of her thighs and tugged just a bit, spreading her more. She moaned, yes, this was what she wanted. His tongue lapped her and she shuddered, then bent her head to him and began to kiss, to lick, to nibble, to drive him mad. He caressed her with his tongue, licking, flicking, lapping, while she squirmed against him, pushing herself at him while she engulfed him, sucking now. He shuddered. She was moving too fast, he would not last if she kept this up. What had started as a lazy, sensuous movement was swiftly becoming something much more. Even as he had this thought, her movements slowed, became softer. She was back to sighing against him, soft nibbles of her lips, tiny, tiny nips with her teeth, tantalizing, building slow, slow pressure within him. He moved his hands over her bottom, soft caresses, gentle movement that caused her skin to ripple. He touched her with only the tip of his tongue, lightly, lightly, then dipped within, stroking, They sighed together, feeling the growing tension, the heat rising within the other, everywhere they touched increasing passing of emotion from one to the other. Now he wanted more from her, it was getting harder and harder to hold back. He closed his lips upon that bundle of nerves and squeezed, felt her shudder, felt her begin to engulf him again, her mouth tighter, her teeth grazing him as she descended, now her tongue flat against him, sucking hard, harder as he applied his tongue against her, flicking faster, lapping, NOW! He sucked hard and everything turned white-hot, exploding. He felt her convulsions, felt her feeling his, it was hard to tell where he left off and she began. Wave after wave of sheer pleasure passed through them, leaving them shaking, moaning. She collapsed on top of him, muscles lax. He moved his hands to her bottom, cupping her, stroking softly. Her idea had been excellent.

**Nyota**

She drifted awake again. Sunlight was streaming in the windows now. She was alone in the bed - well, he didn't need nearly as much sleep as she did. She rose and padded into the bathroom.

She wandered into the living room. No Spock. He wasn't in the kitchen, either. She went to the back door and stepped outside. There he was. Moving through a kata she did not know, at high speed. He was magnificent. Arms moved fast, changed angle, body twisted, knees bent, then straightened, he flashed about the small clearing beyond the patio, spinning on the balls of his feet. She watched entranced. His body was so beautiful, all sleek muscle. She had never seen him moving at full speed like this, but felt that she could stand there all day and watch the play of muscles beneath his skin. All too soon, he came to the end and stopped, standing there with his back to her, breathing heavier than normal. He straightened up, stood still a moment more, then turned to her, saying nothing, just looking at her.

She walked slowly across the patio, then onto the sand, stopping just before she would have touched him. "You haven't taught me any spins. I would love to learn that, if you think I'm ready."

"It is the next thing for you to learn. I did intend to start this instruction on Monday. Perhaps you would prefer to start now?"

"Oh, yes, please." She grinned broadly at him and watched his lips quirk up at her in return.

He knelt besides her and took her right foot in his hand. "This will actually be much easier here than in the gym." And he began to shape her foot to the position he wanted it in. "So, spread the toes more. Lift your heel another half a centimeter. Yes. Weight all on the ball. So. Now lift the other foot and turn to the right. Yes. Back to the left. Yes. Good." He straightened up. "Now place your palms against mine." When she was balanced in the position he desired, he suddenly moved to the right around her, spinning her on the ball of her foot. She gasped, then giggled, then noted the slight drawing of his eyebrows, struggled to control her elation. When she was almost in control, he suddenly swept her to the left. "Bend your knees, assume the first position."

She flowed into the correct body position, felt herself twisting again. "Ah, yes. Let me try that on my own." He removed his hands from hers, moved back a step, watching as she executed the spin.

"Good. Yes, now try the third position with a spin to the left." He watched critically. "Spin just a bit further now." He watched again. "Yes. First kata - I will give you the spins."

She dropped into the waiting position, ready for him to count for her.

Instead he simply said "Go."

She began the movements, having learned them so well that she moved effortlessly, in perfect time. At irregular intervals, he gave her instructions. "Spin left on the next move. Spin right on the second move."

When she had finished the kata and stood before him, glowing, he nodded. "Yes. Again." This time he moved with her, spinning in different directions, at different times than the directions he gave her. This was marvelous! Four times they moved through the kata, spinning about the small clearing, arms and legs flashing in the sun. When they finished the fourth time, he stood looking at her, eyes dark, and then lifted her into his arms and carried her back to the bed.

**Spock**

Perhaps it was now time for nourishment. Although Nyota was in the bathroom and it sounded like she was starting the water in the shower. Perhaps nourishment could wait a short while - or possibly longer.

***

He opened the fridge and pulled out yoghurt, fruit, cheese. Found the bag of bread rolls on the counter. Set all of these on the bar between the kitchen and the living room. Opened a drawer to find a small sharp knife. Retrieved two plates from the cupboard. By the time Nyota came in from the bedroom, ruffling her hair in a towel, he had breakfast set out. And by the way her stomach was growling, none too soon. She gave him a radiant smile, wrapped the towel around her head, and perched on one of the stools at the bar, opening her yoghurt and immediately starting to spoon it up. He sat next to her and began to eat his own breakfast. He could get used to being around her all day every day, every night - it would not be difficult at all. Not at all.


	10. Chapter 10: Great DJ

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Ten : Great DJ**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid March 2258**

Wearing clothing again after two days of nudity felt rather strange. At first, being bare all the time had felt odd. It was surprising how quickly she had become used to it - to the ability to brush against him anytime she felt like it and feel his response. To be able to _see_ his response - no hiding behind Vulcan stoicism _this_ weekend! She smiled as she continued to pack the few remaining food items into the box. It had been a wonderful weekend. She really hated that it was almost over. She opened the fridge, bent over to retrieve the last container, and felt warm hands on her bottom.

"What are you smiling about, Nyota?"

She straightened up, turned in his arms, reached over to set the container on the counter, and raised her hands to the sides of his face. "Just happy, that's all. This weekend has been so lovely, Spock. Thank you so much for thinking of this." She brushed his lips lightly with hers.

He gathered her close to him, tucking her face against his neck, the side of his face against the top of her head. This was such a nice to way hold her, feeling her breath against his skin. He did not think he would ever get enough of it. "I am very glad that you enjoyed it, Nyota, k'hat'n'diawa."

Her heart did a flip-flop. Half of each other's heart and soul - what a lovely, lovely thing to say. "Ahhh, Spock."

With one finger under her chin, he tilted her face up and nuzzled against her, soft brushes of his lips against her skin. "Unfortunately, it is time that we must go. Do you have everything packed?"

"Yes, I think I've checked everywhere. The fridge was the last thing."

**Spock**

"You take the box of food out then. I will lock up." He checked the back door to be sure it was locked, crossed to pick up the two small duffles by the door, closed the door behind him and locked it. He really did not want to leave this lovely place.

He entered the small shuttle, securing the box of food in the cargo net, adding the small duffels, sealed the hatch and slid into the pilot's chair, securing the safety webbing. Nyota already had the communications control unit in her ear and was activating the console before her. He retrieved the data disc with the return flight plan on it from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She inserted it in the slot on her console and began talking, contacting air traffic control as he started the pre-flight checklist. In a few moments they were lifting into the air.

When they were in the correct flight lane, instruments needing no particular correction for some time, she spoke to him. "Spock."

"Yes, Nyota."

"There's something I need to talk to you about." She paused, looked at him. _Was she nervous about something?_ "Gaila was really kind of upset with me because we left on Friday afternoon. She thought I was going to go out dancing with her Friday night."

He frowned slightly. "But you would not have been with her on a Friday night, whether we were here or there." Her fingers against his arm stopped him.

"Spock, this is something we have done every semester after mid-terms and finals. She didn't stop to think that ... things have changed for me. She just didn't. And she was upset." She paused again. "So I agreed to go out with her Monday." She caught a glimpse of his face and rushed on. "Just for a couple of hours - and I told her that you would be coming with us."

Now he turned to look fully at her. _She expected him to come dancing with her Orion roommate?_

She looked at him, beseechingly. "Spock, she's my best friend - and I've hardly done _anything _with her since Thanksgiving. And she was really looking forward to this. So I told her we would come, just for a couple of hours, and then leave. Please?"

This was an established practice. And she had not participated at semester end - because she had been with him - neither of them being able to wait one more day, one more hour. He sighed softly. "Two hours. I agree."

She smiled blindingly at him. "There's this booth - no one likes to sit in it - it's in the shadows, far enough away that the music's not so loud - but it has a clear view of the dance floor. And I promise not to dance with anyone but Gaila." She cocked her head and grinned. "Unless you decide to dance."

He looked at her, one eyebrow arched. She giggled.

*******

When they landed back at the transit station in San Francisco, he went to the cargo net and drew out her duffle, handing it to her. He cupped her face in his hand and kissed her softly. Resting his forehead against hers, he spoke softly. "I will see you on the track in the morning."

She protested. "We can ride the same transport back. No one will notice."

He sighed softly. "Nyota, we discussed this. The box of food is just too much to go unnoticed. You have ten minutes until the next train leaves. Please be on it. I will take the next." His voice softened. "Please, k'diwa. Do not make this difficult."

She nodded, plainly still not happy. She straightened up, turned and left. He felt the connection between them fade as she got further from him, but it never quite seemed to disappear. His shook his head, he _still_ did not understand this. What was that tiny spark she left behind? It was nothing like the faint burr that had been T'Pring. This was warm, comforting. Eventually he would have the time to figure out what it was.

**Nyota**

When she entered her dorm room, Gaila was not there. In many ways that was a relief. Not that she did not want to see her roommate, but she really did not look forward to the many questions and requests for _details_. She knew they would come, but for now, she could just enjoy those memories on her own, without trying to figure out how to satisfy Gaila's curiosity with giving away too much personal information. She emptied her duffle, putting toiletries back in the bathroom, the duffle back under the bed. She stripped, stuffed her clothing in the laundry bag, and entered the bathroom. She would certainly miss that big shower stall with the two shower heads. Soon the bathroom was filled with steam. She stood under water, remembering the spectacular shower she had had this morning - and the one yesterday - and the one Friday evening. She was smiling from ear to ear by the time she turned the water off.

By the time Gaila showed up, she was dressed in soft pants and a tee shirt, had her hair dry, and was seated on her bed surrounded by books and PADDs, making up for the time she had NOT spent studying over the weekend.

***

He was already on the track in the morning when she jogged through the tunnel and accelerated into a full run. She got to watch him in full speed half-way around the track. She did miss seeing the play of muscles, though. It would be nice when it warmed up enough that they could run in shorts again. His greeting this morning was in Vulcan, so of course she replied in the same language. He changed his speed to accommodate her, running in tandem around the track until she had finished her five km, then speeding up again as she left the track.

***

He was already down the hall in his classroom when she entered the office. She had missed him by only a few minutes. Gaila had pestered her so much this morning, wanting more details than she was willing to share. And he hadn't had any tea. But she couldn't take it to him after he had started teaching. She would just have to have a cup waiting for him when he returned.

***

She saw the music player as soon as she entered the gym and almost ran across the floor. He pressed the button and the familiar drum beat sounded. As she dropped into the waiting position, she heard the first spin command. She grinned at him, elated. For the whole session, they spun and flashed about one another, hands and feet coming so close, yet never touching, as they flowed almost effortlessly in the familiar motions.

**Spock**

**Monday, 1730**

It was the first Monday evening that they had not cooked supper together since - he was too irritated to remember exactly when it was - sometime last spring. He was disturbed. It was a necessary part of his routine and he did _not_ like its absence. He stood in front of his closet, trying to decide what to wear. Slacks and a sweater, he supposed. She liked that dark green one with the high rolled collar and the textured stitch. And those black slacks, the ones that fit so close. He added short boots.

***

He tapped the touch plate on her door. Her roommate opened the door and invited him in. Her dress was too tight, too low, too short, too bright. He certainly hoped Nyota was not dressed like that. He heard her footsteps and turned. There she stood, in the door to the bedroom. His jaw dropped. It was as though someone had drawn a line across her body just at the armpit. Above she was bare, below covered. He had no idea what was holding that dress up. Her arms were covered all the way to the wrists, tightly. The bodice of the dress was molded to her body down to the hips. Below that it was ... _streamers_. Many narrow bands of soft fabric, floating down almost to her knees. The whole thing was a dark burnt orange, shading to rust. Her skin glowed. He was transfixed. She moved across the room toward him, the skirt of her dress floating about her, moving with her movements, giving him little glimpses of the brown skin of her thighs. She stopped in front of him, handing him her jacket to hold for her. He was very faintly aware of her roommate giggling beside him. He struggled mightily to regain his control. He held up her jacket and she slid her arms in. His breath brushed against the nape of her neck. He was much too close. Conscious of her friend, he subdued the shudder that wanted to reveal too much, much too much. He followed the two young women from the room. This was going to be _much_ harder than anticipated.

***

The Galaxy Pit was crowded. After all it _was_ Friday night. But the booth that Nyota wanted was empty, just as she had said it would be. She motioned him into the booth first, then handed her jacket to Gaila to drop on the seat on the other side. She slid in beside him, resting her hand flat on his thigh under the table. He knew this was meant to be reassuring, but it was possibly too much. However, he had no intention of telling her to remove it. The server came, took their drink orders, left, returned. Nyota lifted her shot glass and emptied it. Then she grinned at his raised eyebrow. He took a small sip from his. Interesting flavor. Across from him, Gaila spied someone she knew on the dance floor and bounded up. Nyota looked at him, obviously asking permission. He sighed. "Go and dance, Nyota. I will watch here."

She squeezed his thigh briefly, then jumped up and headed for the dance floor. She was careful to stay where he could see her without twisting about. Her arms raised above her head, she started to sway to the music. The streamers in her skirt swayed back and forth, revealing her smooth muscular thighs, then hiding them. It was very provocative. Beside her, Gaila was much more _active_ in her movements. He much preferred Nyota's style.

He watched for some time as the music changed - sometimes faster, sometimes slower. At one point, Gaila was joined by that same cadet he had seen with the medical cadet in the mess hall - the one that had supplied his search terms. She seemed very familiar with him, even dancing so close to him that it was very obvious that sexual activity was implied. It was distasteful. But when he tried to pull Nyota into their movements, she slipped away from him and would not let him touch her. He did not think he liked that cadet very much, perhaps he needed to find out who that was. He thought perhaps this was one of the cadets who had been pestering Nyota about the Kobayashi Maru simulations.

The girls came back to the table, ordered more drinks, chatted animatedly. Several people came over to talk for a few minutes - some of those started visibly when they saw him sitting there. Eventually, they decided to dance some more. Back out on the dance floor they went, swaying and stamping to the beat. Several songs played while they danced together.

The music changed again - this time there was a very prominent, steady drum beat. Nyota bent, twisted, spun. She was dancing just for him now. That cadet was back, trying to join her. With a low growl, he rose from his seat and crossed the distance between them, moving between them, blocking his attentions to her, joining her in the spinning movements. It was exhilarating. He could not take his eyes off of her, the streamers of her skirt flying about her, her lithe body tantalizing him as it moved, so skillfully. He paid no attention to the irritated exclamation of the other cadet. He was of no importance, she did not dance for him.

When the music stopped, Nyota stood looking up at him, eyes wide and soft. "I'm ready to leave now, Spock." He was much relieved.

They walked back across the campus in the soft darkness, fingers linked. The exhilaration from the dancing drumming still through both of them. When they entered his quarters, he took her jacket and hung it up, then turned to find her right behind him, eager. He lifted her, flipped her down onto his bed, ran his hands up the outsides of her legs, finding the top edge of her panties and pulling them down and off in one swift motion. Sweeping the streams of her skirt aside, he buried his face between her legs, inhaling the warm, wet scent before applying his tongue to her. She moaned and twisted beneath him, pulling at him, wanting him. He lifted his face, flipped her over on her stomach, pulling at her hips to raise them. Her shoulders were down on the bed, her bottom up in his face, her knees spread wide, opening herself to him. He fumbled with his trousers, and plunged into her, still fully clothed. Trembling, he placed his left hand flat on the bed beside her to support himself, and clasped her midriff with his right hand, pulling her back into him. Swiftly he stroked into her, deeper and deeper, until he was growling at her as she moaned and cried at him, calling his name as she convulsed about him. She was _his_.

**Nyota**

**Monday, 1730**

She stood in front of her closet, once again trying to figure out what to wear. Gaila was still in her underwear - well, she hoped that was just underwear. If Gaila thought that was a dress, she was not going _anywhere_ with her. Her sisters had talked her into buying a new dress when she was home at Christmas time - maybe now was the time to wear it. She pulled it out of the back of the closet and heard her roommate's gasp. Yes, time to wear this dress.

***

When she walked out of the bedroom and saw Spock's face, she was SO glad that she had decided to wear this dress. He couldn't even summon up that calm expression at all, and she was sure that she had seen his jaw actually _drop_. This dress must be a _lot_ better than she had thought. When he held her coat for her, he almost slobbered on her neck. She tried hard not to smile. This evening was going to be _goood_.

***

She ordered her customary shot of Jack and one for Spock, although he raised his eyebrow at her. She tossed hers back while he just sipped. But he kept sipping - he must like the flavor. Then the DJ played something she really liked and she looked at Spock, wanting to dance, but not if he was going to be uncomfortable. When he told her to go ahead, she almost ran out onto the dance floor. Oh, she hadn't been dancing in _months_. She and Gaila swayed and stamped to the music, having so much fun. Some of their other friends were there as well, and for a while they had six or seven people in a circle, bumping hips - until she caught a glance at Spock's face and moved aside. Too much touching for him to be comfortable, and she hadn't even thought about it. Sometimes it was really hard remembering how he interpreted so many things so differently than she did. Then that idiot Jim Kirk showed up, putting the make on them, blatantly making out with Gaila right on the dance floor. When he tried to draw her in as well, she moved further away, not wanting to be anywhere near him. When the music stopped again, she returned to the table, Gaila reluctantly following. They ordered more drinks and sat there cooling off, talking to friends who wandered by.

When they were cooled off and their drinks were gone, they went back out on the dance floor. She raised her arms in the air again, swaying about, swinging her funky skirt around her legs. This was an excellent dress for dancing. One of songs played that had a beat that they all stamped their feet to, clapping their hands and having fun. Then the music changed again and she thought of Oxford. She turned to see Spock watching her, smiled, and began to spin, twisting about, trying to entice him out to dance with her. Kirk was back again, trying to catch hold of her, making her angry. And then, there was Spock, coming between them, spinning around her, arms flashing near hers, eyes burning at her. She smiled at him, glowing, happy, paying no attention to that idiot Kirk. And when the music stopped, she was ready to leave, wanting to be back in Spock's quarters, in his bed, _soon_.


	11. Chapter 11:Do You Want to Know a Secret?

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Eleven : Do You Want to Know A Secret?**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late March 2258, Friday morning**

She walked into the office reading the flyer she had been handed outside on the pathway. There was an exhibition of alien plants at the Conservatory of Flowers at Golden Gate State Park this weekend. That might be interesting. She looked up to see Spock with the same flyer in his hand and laughed. "Yes, let's go. It does sound interesting."

**Friday afternoon, 1600**

They wandered through the narrow aisles of the Conservatory, looking at all the wonders. It was warm and humid inside, a marked contrast to the cool, breezy fog outside. They had both removed their jackets, carrying them across their arms. They were in one of the very small, crowded areas when the rush of adolescents came barreling through. Nyota was almost knocked over. Spock grabbed her to keep her steady, but someone came running full into his back, pushing him into one of the plants set out in the walkway. It took them a minute to regain solid footing.

"Are you injured, Nyota?"

"No, I'm fine. How about you?"

"I also am uninjured, although I am not sure I can say the same about this plant."

"I don't understand why it's out in the walkway, anyway. We better find someone that works here and report this."

It took them fifteen minutes to find someone and explain what had happened. They decided that they had had enough of the exotic plants and walked out of the park, up the hill to the street with the small restaurants to find something for dinner.

**Spock**

They walked from the transit station across the campus to Spock's quarters, glad to get in out of the cool damp air. He hung up their jackets and turned from the closet. A wave of dizziness passed over him. _That was odd_. Nyota came in from the living room, having put some discs in the music player. She snuggled up to him for a moment, and then started undressing, handing him her clothing to hang up. He hung his clothing up as well and followed her to the bed. He stretched out beside Nyota and brushed her temples softly with his fingertips. She sighed and turned her face, brushing his palm with her lips. Perhaps tonight would be very soft and slow, building gently. He did not feel very energetic for some reason.

***

After Nyota convulsed over him and slumped down to rest on his chest, he almost fell asleep. Something appeared to be wrong, but he could not determine what it was. He held her against him, stroking softly, soothing her. Although normally, he would wait a short while and enflame her again, tonight he did seem to be able to generate the desire to do so. When he drifted off again, he decided he must be over-tired, although he could not see any reason that that would be so. They dressed and he walked her to her dorm. When he left her, he felt that she was distressed about something, but he did not have the energy to inquire about it. When he reached his quarters again, he fell across the bed without undressing.

**Nyota**

He was not on the track when she arrived, nor had he shown up by the time she left. Something must be wrong. He never missed a morning on the track. And he had been distinctly odd last night. Instead of jogging back to her dorm, she went straight to his building. Reaching his quarters, she tapped the plate by the door and entered. No lights were on. She crossed quickly to the bedroom. There was Spock, sprawled across the bed, fully dressed. Quickly, she knelt beside him and placed her hand on his forehead - he was boiling hot. She went straight to the bathroom and wet all the towels that were out, bringing them back and applying them to all the exposed skin she could find. Then she went to the com unit and called Leonard McCoy, giving him Spock's address and telling him to HURRY.

She went back into the bedroom and stripped Spock down to his briefs, rolling him over to the middle of the bed. She rewet the towels and laid them all over him. He was so hot that she could see steam coming off. This was not good at all. The door chime sounded and she ran to let McCoy in. She dragged him into the bedroom, when he immediately pulled out his medical tricorder and began scanning Spock.

"How the heck did you find him?" _And how did you get in? And why are you dressed that way?_

"He wasn't on the track this morning and he _never _misses." She didn't even notice the strange look she got from McCoy.

"He's way too hot. Go wet those towels again - and use cold water this time."

"I DID use cold water!" She grabbed the towels and ran back in the bathroom, coming back to find McCoy with his hypospray out, adjusting dials.

"Damn, I don't have enough training on Vulcan physiology to be sure I know what I'm doing. This shouldn't hurt though - and we've got to get this fever down. I don't suppose you know how long he's been like this - or what's wrong with him?"

"I don't know for sure, it could have been as much as eight hours. I have no idea what it is." She thought for a moment. "But he did seem a bit odd last night." She stopped, suddenly realizing what she was saying.

McCoy looked at her. "Look, I don't know what's going on between the two of you and I don't want to know, but I do know it's been going on a while and I've keep my mouth shut this long, so just forget whatever you think I might do and tell me everything you can so that I can figure out what's wrong with him."

"He was tired last night and there wasn't any reason for it. He was fine all day."

"Okay, define fine."

"Well, normal, you know, active, alert, just _normal_. And after supper he just kind of went slowly down hill and almost fell asleep."

"But he wasn't hot?"

"Well, he's _always_ hot. But no, I didn't notice that he was any hotter than normal."

"Okay, what did he eat at supper time?"

"Vegetable curry - same as me. And we've eaten in that restaurant before. And I'm not sick. And he wasn't nauseated or anything. I don't think it could be the food."

"All right, start in the morning and tell me everything you know about his day."

"He ran his normal ten km before breakfast, then he was in his office from 0800 to 1200 grading papers. After lunch we went to see that exhibition of alien flora at the Conservatory in Golden Gate State Park. Then we went to the restaurant, and came back here for a while. Then he walked me home. I don't know what happened after that - but he was sprawled out face down on the bed, fully dressed when I came to see why he wasn't on the track." She raised stricken eyes to the medic. "What do you think it is?"

"Dammit, nothing you said sounds like it could have caused this. And his temperature is still going up. Go wet those towels again. Did anything at all unusual happen yesterday - anything?"

She came back with the wet towels and they laid them out over Spock's comatose body again. "Well, we did get pushed into some plants at the Conservatory. Something they had sitting out in the walkway."

"You don't know what it was?"

"No, but we reported it. If I call the Conservatory, I should be able to find out."

"Go do that right now!"

She ran into the other room and activated the com unit, quickly searching for contact information for the Conservatory. It took agonizing minutes to convince someone to check the records for yesterday afternoon and it wasn't until McCoy came in and shouted at the man on the screen that they finally got the information they needed. Then she had to do another search to find information about that plant, while McCoy searched his tricorder database trying to find information there. Finally she found something. "There are tiny spines on this thing which contain neuropoisons! He probably got one in his skin when he got knocked into that plant!"

They dashed back into the bedroom. "Where did he impact it? Think quick Uhura!"

"On his back or the back of his left arm."

They rolled him over and started searching, being careful where they put their fingers. Both of them found a tiny, tiny spine embedded in Spock's skin, one on his back near his armpit and one on the back of his arm, just a few centimeters away. McCoy used a delicate medical probe to extract them, sealing them inside a protective covering. Then he began to inject around those two sites with several compounds recommended to fight the specific neuropoisons they had found reference to. Nyota re-wet the towels again. After long minutes, McCoy confirmed that Spock's temperature was slowly going down. After half an hour, his temperature was almost down to normal, but he had not regained consciousness.

McCoy scanned him again. "He's severely dehydrated. We have to get fluids in him right now!"

Nyota ran to get a glass and fill it. McCoy raised Spock's head and shoulders up, supporting him and Nyota tilted the glass, one finger gently prying Spock's mouth open.

"Don't pour it in too fast, you don't want to drown him. Dammit, I'm never going anywhere without a full medkit again!"

She continued to dribble water into Spock's mouth, refilling the glass several times, until he suddenly sputtered at her. She immediately moved the glass away from his mouth. McCoy lowered him back onto the bed. They hovered over the bed as Spock's eyes fluttered slowly open. He looked about in confusion.

Nyota sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, sighing in relief. "Spock, you got some poisonous spines in you when you got pushed into that plant. You've been really, really sick. Don't try to move, just lay there, okay?"

He nodded slowly, not really able to do anything else.

McCoy dialed his hypospray again and gave Spock several more injections, one a mild sedative. "He needs to rest, and he needs to drink a _lot_ of fluid. And it wouldn't hurt for him to have a cool shower in a bit. Can you handle that or do you need help?" He watched her closely.

"I can do all that. Oh, McCoy, thank you so much." She threw her arms around him in a big hug. "You're such a good friend."

The doctor blushed and stammered. "Well, after all, I _am_ a doctor." He started packing things back into his mini-medkit. "If he isn't more normal by this evening, call me again, okay?'

"I will, yes, thanks." After the doctor exited the apartment, she wet the towels again and plastered them all over Spock once more, then brought another glass of water and made Spock drink it all, supporting the back of his head against her. She laid Spock back down on the bed, where he lay drowsily. Then she went to the com unit and called Gaila to bring her some clean clothes.

**Spock**

He gradually became aware that he ached all over. He felt strange, light-headed, too hot, sticky. His head ached, his mouth was dry. He opened his eyes and instantly Nyota was there.

"Spock, are you awake?"

"I think so. What happened?"

"That plant you got knocked into had spines with neuropoisons in them. You had two embedded in your skin. You had a very high fever for several hours. You need to drink more water now." She helped him sit up, propped on pillows, and brought him the glass.

Shakily, he drank a little bit at a time until the glass was empty. He let his head relax back against the pillows. "Nyota, was there someone else here? I seem to remember a man's voice."

"Yes, Leonard McCoy was here. I called him. I think he may have saved your life." She sounded very shaky.

"I was that ill?"

"Yes."

He rolled his head so that he could see her better. "Thank you, Nyota."

She smiled at him and cupped his face gently with her hands. "I couldn't lose you, Spock."

He allowed his lips to quirk up at her. "I am very glad of that. Come lay down beside me, Nyota. I do not think that I have enough strength to do anything else."

At that moment the door chime sounder. "Oh, that's probably Gaila - I'll be right back."

He lay against the pillows and listened to Nyota talk to Gaila, then he heard the door close, and Nyota's footsteps coming back to him. He watched, half asleep again, as she laid her carrybag on top of his dresser, then she came back to the bed and helped him slide down again, coming to lay beside him, holding him close while he drowsed.

***

When he awoke again, she coaxed him into the shower and gently washed him, then dried him and helped him dress in loose pants and a tee-shirt. She dressed in clothes she took out of her carrybag. He realized then that she must have come directly from the track and had been wearing her sweaty running clothes ever since.

She came back with another glass of water, and although he did not feel particularly thirsty any more, he drank it down for her. Then she lay back down beside him, holding him, and they both lay quietly for some time. Eventually, he began to feel somewhat better. He convinced her to let him sit on the couch. He was shakier than he wished, but made it across the room, sat carefully, then let her bring him a light snack. He did feel better after that. And then he made her tell him the whole story again.

**Nyota**

It was late Sunday afternoon and he was getting restless. He still didn't seem to be completely back to normal, but he was tired of sitting on the couch and doing nothing. What could she do to keep him quiet? Then she had a great idea. She found the case containing his ka'athyra and carried it to him. When she saw the tension sooth away from his face she knew she had found the right solution. She curled up on the couch to listen to him play. And when eventually he asked her to sing for him, she did. And after that she took his hand and led him to the bed. She would be sure he did not exert himself _too_ much - just enough to be sure he was really getting his strength back.

***

She was ready to leave him, to go back to her dorm. She had adamantly refused to allow him to walk her there. Now she was trying to get a promise from him. "Promise me that you will not try to run in the morning."

"I promise that I will not try to run in the morning."

She looked at him askance. Somehow that did not sound like he had replied to what she had meant. "Promise that you will not run at all tomorrow."

He hesitated. He dropped his eyes. Finally he raised his eyes and looked at her again. "Very well, Nyota. I promise that I will not run tomorrow."

"Okay." She hesitated, very cupped his face in her hand. "I really want you completely well again."

"I as well." He kissed her palm softly. "But it would not hurt me to walk you to your dorm." He sighed at the look on her face. "However, I see that you will not allow me to do so. Very well, I shall sit on the couch and read technical journals. Does that meet with your approval?"

"Yes. And go to bed early. Promise me." She looked at him, pleading in her eyes.

He sighed. "I truly do not need that much sleep, Nyota. But I promise that I shall do nothing energetic and that I shall plan sufficient sleep. And eat. I trust I will see you in the office in the morning?"

"Of course." She picked up her carry bag, ready to leave. Then she leaned into him once more, her face against his neck. "Be well. Please be well."

He held her close, feeling her cool body against his, her breath against his skin. "I shall endeavor to do so. Being ill is not comfortable."

Reluctantly he released her and watched her exit from his quarters. He would really have preferred that she stay, but of course that was not possible. He sat back down on the couch and picked up the first journal PADD from the stack on the small table. For some reason, it just did not seem very interesting. He would have preferred to have her sitting beside him while he read - or working at the desk - or... This was illogical. It was not necessary for her to be present while he read. But it was desirable.


	12. Chapter 12: Help

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Twelve : Help**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early April 2258, Monday 1015**

He was sitting at his desk, drinking the tea Nyota had made when he returned from teaching his class, when his com link chimed. "Commander Spock here."

"Commander Spock, the Commandant wishes to speak with you. Please hold while I transfer you." The Commandant's secretary appeared on the screen briefly, then was replaced by the face of the Commandant.

"Commander Spock, so good to see you again. And how is our little inter-species cooperation experiment going?" The Commandant appeared eager for news.

"Cadet Uhura has proven to be a superior student in this area, as in all others." _Perhaps he had been just a bit exuberant?_ "We continue to have practice sessions each Monday afternoon. Her skill is progressing very satisfactorily." _ Was that better? _He was conscious that behind him Nyota was having difficulty suppressing merriment.

"Good, good, glad to hear it." The Commandant paused, glanced down at something on his desk, cleared his throat. "There is something that perhaps you can assist me with."

Spock was wary. What did the Commandant want of him now? "If you would elucidate, sir, I could then determine whether my assistance would be beneficial."

The Commandant looked at him strangely for a moment, then continued. "There is to be a large reception on Friday afternoon and evening. Representatives of most of the Federation planets will be attending. I find that we are in need of translators." He paused and looked at Spock expectantly.

Spock was confused. He was not a translator. "Sir, is there some particular reason that this affects me? Does the Federation not have a large staff of translators?"

"Well, this isn't actually a Federation event. It's being held by the Academy, to try to get the aid of the various governments to encourage enlistment. As you are almost certainly aware, the major portion of the students at the Academy comes from Earth. We would really like to get more cadets from other planets. As this is not an official Federation event, we cannot use the Federation staff translators. Therefore we are trying to get as many of the staff and cadet core as possible who come from other planets to act as translators. And you are the only Vulcan on staff. We really need several people who speak Vulcan, as well as Romulan, and several other languages."

Spock tilted his head to one side. He really did not want to participate in this, however, he could see a potential for Nyota to achieve recognition. "Could you please list all of the languages for which you are lacking a translator, sir?"

The Commandant looked at him a bit strangely, but quickly read off a list of languages.

"I can recommend someone to you who can speak all of those languages quite readily, sir. I also speak most of them, but some not as well as Cadet Uhura." Behind him he heard a quick intake of breath.

The Commandant looked extremely relieved. "Excellent, excellent. I will have my secretary send over all the particulars. Dress uniforms, 1600 hours on Friday. There will be food provided. This is a great relief. See you then." And he signed off.

Spock sat still, not sure how Nyota was going to react. He heard nothing. This did not bode well. Steeling himself, he swiveled his chair around to find Nyota staring straight at him.

"You might at least have _asked_!"

He winced, while trying to keep his expression as calm as possible. "It was the Commandant, Nyota. We could not have refused, no matter what other plans we might have had." He lowered his voice. "And we have no specific plans for Friday."

"But to have to dress up and stand around translating cocktail party talk for hours! UGH!"

"It will be beneficial to you. It will showcase your talents. Help you to achieve that posting to the Enterprise that you speak of so incessantly." Ah, that had been the correct direction in which to steer the conversation.

She sighed. "I know you're right. It just doesn't seem like anything I want to do at all."

"You are not alone in that thought. Unfortunately, there will be many such duties in the coming years."

"Yes, okay." She looked right into his eyes. "But you're going to have to _compensate_ me."

Both of his eyebrows shot up. "Nyota!"

She giggled, trying hard to suppress a wide smile. "Gotcha!"

He had great difficulty in maintaining calm. She had this ability to disturb him, to tempt him in ways he had never encountered before. He reached out with his right hand, two fingers extended. She immediately placed her fingers against his. _Decorum, propriety, professionalism_. These were difficult concepts to pass this way. But apparently she had received enough of the meaning of it, because she wilted a bit. He followed with a tiny burst of _desire_, causing her to smile again. He dropped his hand, breaking the contact, and swiveled his chair back around to face his desk. For some reason, he thought this week was going to be trying. How _exactly_ had she expected to be compensated?

***

He had wanted to bring the music player again, then thought better of it. Although he would hide it from Nyota if at all possible, he still did not feel entirely over the effects of the neuropoisons that had flooded his system on Friday. So today he would work on correcting minor imperfections in her stance and do more work on applied power. No doubt he would have several minor bruises by the time the session was over. And later this evening, she would search for them - inwardly he smiled. That part of the day would be very acceptable.

***

She was tossing the pasta with olive oil and finely grated cheeses. He had the bowl of diced tomatoes, mixed with chopped herbs, ready for her to stir in. When the hot pasta combined with the cheeses and herbs, a delightful aroma rose from the dish. Combined with the scent of the garlic bread rising from the oven, it made his mouth water. Then his stomach grumbled. Nyota giggled at him, handing him the serving dish to set on the table. His appetite seemed to have returned to normal, this was good.

***

She had insisted that they speak only in the languages they would use on Friday, so the conversation over the meal, and the reading following it, were in those languages. And when his need to touch her was over-powering, it was his own language that sprang to his tongue. "Wadi nash-veh aitlu estuhl tu, Nyota."

**Nyota**

**Monday, 1600**

She couldn't even remember for sure the last time she had worn her dress uniform. Did it need to be cleaned? Maybe she ought to try it on to be sure it still fit correctly. She fished in the back of her closet and found it, brought it out. Well, it did look a bit rumpled from being crowded into the back of her closet. To the cleaners, then. So she might as well try it on first. Stripping out of her red uniform, she pulled on the long black skirt and sealed the closure. She turned before the mirror. Well, the skirt was okay. She took the fitted dark red jacket off the hanger and shrugged into it. She sealed the front and looked in the mirror. She really liked this jacket much better than the one she wore so often. Silk was always so nice to wear. She twisted and turned to check the fit. Okay, everything looked fine, just needed pressing, really. She slipped back out of the dress uniform and folded it into a carry bag. She would take it right now, on the way over to see Spock. She found a pair of clean black leggings and pulled on a long green sweater and set off.

***

Spock was in the kitchen chopping the herbs for the pasta dish they were making tonight when she entered his quarters and toed off her shoes. She crossed the room, leaned up and nibbled on his earlobe. The tip of that ear turned a very delicate shade of green. He bent his head down just enough that she could stretch up to nip at the pointed top. A very soft moan escaped from between his lips. Oh, very good! Tonight was going to be one of _those_ nights, then. She felt an instant surge of elation and went very warm in several places. Without a doubt, he would be able to smell her reaction to that little moan.

She rinsed her hands and fished out the pot for the pasta, filling it with water and setting it on the cooking surface to heat. While Spock diced the tomatoes and sliced the bread, she beat the mashed garlic into the butter and measured out grated cheeses into the cup of olive oil.

Very soon supper was ready and she passed him hot dishes to set on the table. Sitting down at the table she began the dinner conversation in Romulan, randomly changing to the other languages they would need on Friday. She even insisted that he set aside his chosen book and pick something in one of those languages instead. She thought he was a bit put off at that - what had he selected? She would have to find out later. She was sitting close beside him, examining the book he had been reading from, when he spoke to her in Vulcan, his voice husky and strained. She turned her face to look directly at him - his eyes were very dark and the tips of his ears were definitely green again. She raised her hand to cup the side of his face. "Wadi nesh-veh aitlu tu estuhl, Spohkh."

Ah, yes, definitely the correct response, was practically her last coherent thought as he enveloped her.

***

She didn't even remember how she had gotten from the couch to the bed. He must have carried her, because she surely didn't remember walking. Probably when she had her arms and legs wrapped around him with him so deep inside her that she was practically delirious. She had definitely still been on the couch when he had used his tongue to send her over the top - at least twice, but then there were fingers in there somewhere - she had lost count at some point and just enjoyed. They had definitely been on the bed when entered her from behind, she remembered the give of the mattress under her knees. And when he held her up over him and slowly, slowly impaled her until she began screaming at him. He had kept her so high for so long, never really letting her come down very far - and now she was just limp, laying draped over him as limp as left over pasta. She was pretty sure that she had gotten much better than she had given, but she surely wasn't going to complain if he wasn't. She could feel his heart, pounding against her stomach - still much faster than his normal fast beat. She nestled her face a little bit closer to his neck, brushing him softly with her lips, sighing. His hand clasped the back of her head, holding her there against him.

"That was so lovely, Spock. I'm not entirely sure what brought it on, but you're welcome to repeat that _any_ time." Her voice sounded awfully husky - she vaguely recalled doing a _lot_ of yelling at several points. He actually _chuckled_. Wow.

"_You_ brought that on. Your comment this morning. I could not stop thinking about it."

She searched her memory. What was he referring to? Oh. COMPENSATION. Well. So he _did_ fantasize. Very nice to know. She nuzzled up against his neck again, laughing softly, happily.

**Spock**

**Friday, 1530**

There was a suite at the hotel where the reception was being held that had been reserved for their use. Although it seemed highly inappropriate to him, it had been set up by the Commandant, so he was not going to make any objection. There were four different bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, as well as a kitchenette and living room. And as far as he knew, it was for the sole use of the two of them for the duration of the reception. He carried in the dress bag that contained Nyota's dress uniform, fresh from the cleaners, as well as the covered hanger containing his own dress uniform. He also had a small carrybag containing her dress shoes and a few other items. He carried all of this into the bedroom on the far left and hung it in the closet. Nyota followed him in, looking all about.

"All of this is just for the two of us? That doesn't make any sense."

"I can only repeat what I was told. I do not understand it either."

"Well, I'm still going to lock that hall door before I start to change."

"I have no objection."

She went back out into the main room and crossed to the door. Finding the touch plate off to the left, she tapped in control sequences, then came back into the bedroom. "I set it to recognize your code as well as mine, and lock out all others."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Well, do you want anyone walking in with us both in the same bedroom in our underwear?"

"I do believe you know the answer to that question, Nyota." He smirked at her. "How long are you planning to be in your underwear?" He moved to the bedroom door and locked that as well.

"SPOCK!"

"We do have half an hour." He kept his face very calm as he said this, but his heart rate was starting to accelerate.

"Spock, we have to be all polished up and out there in that ballroom in half an hour, we don't have time...." Her words were choked off as his lips began to tantalize the nape of her neck. "Spock, really, we.... Ahhh, Spock, you... Yes, right there, oh."

He swiftly divested her of her clothing - all of it. He was only hindered by her actions in removing his. Not wanting to mess up the bed and alert anyone who might come in later as to what had happened in this room, he lifted her and carried her into the bathroom, sitting her on the counter beside the sink, which was at exactly the right height. He continued to kiss and nip at her neck, being careful to keep his lips below where the top of her collar would be. His left arm was around her back to support her and with his right he was very quickly ensuring that she would be _very_ wet _very_ quickly. As her moans grew louder and she began to move her hips against his fingers, he determined that now was a very good time to replace his fingers with the part of him that she was clasping. Yes, definitely, she was very wet and very ready. So good. He tried desperately not to bite her shoulder, shuddering with the intensity of what he was feeling. Ah, Nyota! She had both hands at the back of his neck, pulling him down against her. She managed to get one ear into her mouth and was driving him up, up, so fast. He vaguely realized that she was not biting, only pulling at his ear with her lips. Although he missed the feel of her teeth, he was glad that she had retained that much control. And then she buried her face against his neck and convulsed about him, pulling him after her into ecstasy. He stood there and shuddered his release, holding her so close.

For a few more minutes he held her, and then slowly straightened up, breathing deeply. He reached for one of the washcloths, handed one to her, ran water in the sink. They both quickly cleaned themselves, and then Nyota fixed her hair back into the neat twist it had been in. He came back into the bathroom, handing her her underwear, already wearing his. He returned to the bedroom and hung up their normal uniforms in the closet. He drew out his dress uniform as Nyota came to get hers. In a few more moments they were both completely dressed. He looked over at Nyota - she was absolutely breathtaking, but that uniform was _very_ tightly fitted. She seemed to be distressed about something.

She lifted her head to look at him. "They shrunk my uniform! And there's nothing I can do about it now!"

"Your appearance is very attractive, Nyota. Do not be concerned."

"But I can barely breathe!"

"Stand straight and breathe normally. Right now you are agitated and breathing very deeply."

She took a deep breath, let in out and stood still, trying to calm herself. He reached out and twined his fingers about hers, sending _calm_. As her breathing calmed, she relaxed slightly. "Okay, thanks, that's better."

He straightened up, looked about the room, checked the bathroom again, unlocked the bedroom door. "It is time for us to go find that ballroom."

She followed him out into the hall, stopped to tap the touch plate at the door to relock it, and then they walked off down the hall, ready for hours of tedium.

***

She roved about the room, stopping wherever someone asked for assistance, translating sometimes into two or three different languages simultaneously. Occasionally, the conversation was even mildly interesting. From time to time she caught a glimpse of Spock doing the same thing. Once in a while she even managed to catch his eyes briefly. Unfortunately, she did not really get a chance to sample the contents of the buffet. Every time she got close, someone needed help conversing with someone else.

Finally, at 2230, the party started to break up. By that time her feet hurt and her stomach was starting to make discrete noises. This could get embarrassing pretty quickly if she didn't get something to eat. When there were less than twenty people left in the room, mostly Academy people, the Commandant found her, Spock trailing along behind him.

"You two have done a wonderful job. I can't think what we would have done without you. Remember the breakfast buffet starts at 0800 tomorrow." The Commandant stopped, looking at two confused faces. "My secretary did contact you about the extended time we requested of you? No, oh my. I am so sorry. I assume then that you did not bring extra clothing with you? Okay, I'll fix that." He reached into a pocket and brought out a small com link, tapping it and speaking quickly. "I need two complete sets of standard uniforms, skin out, for Commander Spock and Cadet Uhura - their measurements should be in the databank. Get them over here within the hour - deliver straight to their suite." He stopped and looked at them. "Either of you bring a PADD with you?" He brought the com link back to his face. "And throw in one standard PADD and two com links, one coded for each of them. Load the rest of this weekend's schedule in the PADD. Right - rush everything. NOW!" He turned back to them. "Sorry about that. Everything has just been so rushed. Now you two run along back to that suite and order up some room service. I know neither of you got much to eat. See you in the morning." And he was off to talk to someone else, leaving them standing there gaping.

**Spock**

He could _not_ believe what the Commandant had just done. This was beyond acceptable - so far beyond it that he just could not comprehend that it had truly happened. By the shocked look on Nyota's face he could tell that she was just as outraged as he was. He clenched his fists and fumed, straining to keep his shock and outrage off his face.

He turned stiffly to Nyota. Then he raised his eyes again and swept the room. Very few people left, none looking this way. He lifted one hand and stroked two fingers across the back of her hand, quickly. When he did, she drew a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"Okay, I guess we just got our orders. _Not_ the way I wanted to spend this weekend. I guess we better get back to that suite before someone shows up with all that stuff he ordered." She turned and headed for the hall. He followed her, still incensed.

When they got back to the suite, he realized that all of their clothing was in the one bedroom. Crossing the central room quickly, he retrieved everything of his and carried it across to the furtherest bedroom. It would not do for anyone to find all their things together. When he came back into the outer room, he found Nyota with the room service folder in her hands. He could hear her stomach growling. "Order whatever you wish, Nyota. I am too upset at this moment to decide on anything. I will gladly eat whatever you order."

"Well, I'm going to order a table full of stuff! And a toiletries pouch for both of us as well."

He gave her a surprised look. "They have that on the menu?"

"Yes, and I think we're entitled. After all, I can't go to that buffet in the morning without brushing my hair and teeth, now can I?" She went to the console on the desk near the door and started ordering things. After she set the folder down, she went into the bedroom and changed out of her dress uniform, putting back on the skirt and sweater of the uniform she had worn here. She padded back out in her bare feet, came over and hugged him. "Go change out of that uniform. We may need to wear them again tomorrow evening, who knows?"

Recognizing the truth of her statement, he moved across to the other bedroom and removed and hung up his dress uniform. He had put on his regular uniform slacks and was pulling the sweater over his head when he heard the door chime. He heard Nyota talking to someone - that must be the messenger with their additional uniforms. He went back into the main room and accepted the two large bags from the messenger. Nyota had a smaller package which must be the PADD and personal com links. He carried the bags into the room he had put his clothing in, then carried one to the other bedroom. They could sort them out later. Nyota was thanking the messenger, who left just as room service arrived. Shortly they were seated at the table, a variety of food before them, looking at the schedule that had been downloaded to the PADD they had been sent. They looked at each other in dismay - their whole weekend had been usurped with one event after another spaced out over the next two days. At least they would both be in the same events and not sent in separate directions.

Eventually, it occurred to them that no one else was coming to share their suite. Spock went into the room containing his clothing and checked the garment bag -- this was Nyota's clothing. He carried it over to the other bedroom and retrieved the one there, taking it back to the other room and hanging up the new uniforms, putting the other clothing in the dresser drawer. Then he drew back the covers on the bed and rolled around on the sheets, rumpling them up. He looked up to see Nyota in the doorway, laughing at him. He raised one eyebrow at her from where he lay on the bed.

"Oh, Spock, that is so funny! But I'm glad to see you planning ahead like that. It probably would not have occurred to me."

He got up off the bed and crossed to draw her close to him. "If we are _ordered_ to stay in the same suite, I do not see how any one could _possibly_ blame us for what we are _definitely_ going to do." He bent and kissed her. "But I see no reason to make it obvious." He would also need to run water in that shower in the morning.

Giggling, she drew him to the other bedroom, but he stopped to go and lock the hall door so that it required an override to get in. He also locked the bedroom door before he began to slowly remove her clothing.

_______

Wadi nash-veh aitlu estuhl tu = my skin desires to feel you.

Wadi nesh-veh aitlu tu estuhl = my skin desires you to touch it.


	13. Chapter 13: All You Need Is Love

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Thirteen : All You Need Is Love**

**Nyota**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Mid April 2258, Sunday 2000**

At long last the final event of the weekend was finished and all of the guests had left. She and Spock were headed down the hall to the suite they had been using, to collect their clothing and return to the Academy campus. She was exhausted. As she walked down the hall, she rubbed the back of her neck and then her forehead. Her feet hurt. She had been standing most of the time since Friday afternoon. Beside her she felt Spock's heat radiating out towards her. She glanced back over her shoulder, no one in the hall. Her hand moved only a few centimeters and her fingers brushed against his. _Patience_. Well, crap, that wasn't what she needed now. She huffed.

They were finally at the door of the suite. She tapped the touch plate and door opened. She crossed to the bedroom where all her clothing was. She was so tired that she was not really aware that behind her Spock had sealed the hall door. She stood droopily in front of the closet. Now she needed to pack. Somewhere she had a duffle, didn't she? No wait, she had come with only a dress bag and a small carry bag. Crap, how was she going to get all this stuff back to the campus? When she felt warm hands begin to massage the sore muscles in her neck and back, she just melted against him. "Oh, that feels so good. I'm so stiff and sore."

"Just relax, Nyota. It is over. You performed admirably." His hands continued to work on the stiff muscles. "We can return to the campus shortly, back to our normal schedule."

"Yes, but we lost the whole weekend, Spock! The only private time we had was when we were supposed to be sleeping. Oh, yes, right there, that is so sore." She stretched and bent as he worked on her back, trying to loosen up.

He bent down and kissed the back of her neck, spoke softly into her ear. "If you wish, I will be glad to give you a full massage, but I would prefer to do it in my quarters." He nuzzled her neck. "I still do not feel entirely safe here."

"Please, please, yes. Let's get our stuff and get out of here before we get caught up in something else." She straightened up and began gathering the toiletries scattered about the bathroom, dumping them into her carrybag. She went to the closet and began cramming clothing into the bag it had been delivered to their suite in. She laid that and the dress bag her dress uniform was in on the bed, folding them up around one another. This was going to be so awkward to carry. Finally she had it all gathered up in her arms and turned towards the door, seeing Spock with an equally awkward armload. She walked out into the main room, right up to him and lifted her face for a kiss. Sighing, she exited the suite, with Spock right at her heels.

They walked across the campus, first to her dorm, where she left everything dumped on the bed, then straight on to his quarters, where he laid his armload down on top of his dresser before quickly stripping her and laying her out on his bed, where he began methodically to massage her sore muscles, working from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. When he had finished, he quickly shed his own clothes and stretched out beside her, pulling her against him so that he was curled against her back, her head under his chin, his knees tucked into the crook of hers. She was asleep in only a few minutes.

***

"Spock"

"Yes, Nyota."

"What time is it?"

"2200. You have been sleeping.."

"I'm awake now." She moved her bottom against him, feeling him rise instantly. She picked up his hand from where it rested on her midriff and placed it over her breast. She felt his warm breath on the nape of her neck, his lips and tongue tasting her now. She sighed. This was so much better. She raised her arm up over her head, reaching back to find his ear, running her fingers down the lovely curve, pinching the pointed top, making him growl softly at her. She undulated against him, rubbing her bottom against him, hard and hot there. His fingers caressed her breasts, rolling her nipples, making her moan. Oh, this was lovely, all soft and warm and gentle. She raised her leg and laid it on top of his, opening herself. The arm underneath her moved lower, the long fingers sliding into her warm dampness, stroking softly, lighting her up.

**Spock**

He was trapped between them and could not figure out how to get free, until she reached down at the same time as she lifted her hips away from him for a moment. She grasped him and suddenly he was free, sliding against her, her hand stroking him, guiding him into her, reaching back, fingers cool against his scrotum, stroking his testicles, leaving trails of fire, little shocks of ecstasy. He moved slowly, sliding against her wetness, almost lazy in the gentle motion as their bodies rocked in unison. Finally his fingers slid over her until they found that small bundle of nerves and gently caressed her until she shattered about him, spilling him into ecstasy. Ahh, Nyota!

***

He helped her dress again, she was so limp and tired, but relaxed now, so soft. He walked her to her dorm, held her a moment, pressed her forehead with his, felt her exhaustion but also her happily sated drowsiness, watched her stumble into her dorm, still feeling that tiny connection that he could not explain. He returned to his quarters, bundled his clothing into the laundry collector and collapsed down onto the bed, asleep in minutes.

***

**Monday, 0600**

He flew around the track, making up for the long weekend spent, for the most part, standing still. His muscles warmed quickly and his blood pumped faster. When he had completed twenty laps, he saw her coming through the tunnel onto the track. Good, she was looking better than she had last night. He flew past her, greeting her in Trill. When he passed her the second time, her lovely voice replied. Coming around again, he gradually slowed until he was running at her pace when they came abreast of each other. Giving her time to warm up her muscles, he waited for ten laps before slowing beginning to speed up again. When they had reached her top speed, they flew along side by side for five laps before he began to slow again. Her endurance was growing. He was extremely pleased with her. When she veered off, back into the tunnel, he picked up his speed again, in a much better frame of mind than last week.

***

She was already in the office when he got there, pouring out the tea. She handed him his cup when he set his briefcase down, caressing his fingers with her fingertips for only a few seconds. He felt the tiny zings of electrical energy that always seemed to pass between them when they had not touched for several hours. He raised one eyebrow and quirked the corners of his lips at her and she beamed at him, happy.

***

He brought the music player and they danced about each other, spinning across the floor. He gave her quiet directions, sending her closer and closer to him, then just one phrase "Apply power." She focused her eyes on his for just a moment, gave a tiny nod, and in the next movement flicked against his arm. A small crease between her brows - she realized she had not done it entirely correctly. The next time it was better and the time after that her foot connected with his shin quite satisfactorily. Yes, she was doing _quite_ well.

***

They walked from the gym to the grocery and gathered the items she wanted to cook tonight. They walked back across the campus to his quarters, talking about some of the strange conversations they had translated this weekend. Now that it was behind them, and they were back in their familiar routine, it was interesting to talk about. She also mentioned the fact that she would participate in two Kobayashi Maru simulations this Friday afternoon.

***

After they had cleaned up the kitchen, they sat on the couch with the book he had selected for last week. She was snuggled up against him, with his right arm behind her back and under her right arm, around her ribs. Her head rested high on his shoulder, her right arm around him. It was an extremely acceptable position for reading. He reached over to the small table beside the couch and picked up the book that had been laying there for a week. He held it out where Nyota could read the words written on the cover. She turned her face to him, confused.

"Spock? This is not the kind of thing we usually read."

"No. I found this book in the library. It had been mis-shelved. I was going to take it to the correct place, but for some reason I started to read it. It is...unusual."

"Well, yes."

"Are you familiar with this subject?"

"I have heard of this, but I really don't know a lot about it." She looked at the small book with only two words on the cover ...Tantric Sex.

"It seems to be a very unusual way to meditate. It confuses me." He paused and took a deep breath. "I must confess that on some level it also intrigues me. The author of this book implies that this... method... will prolong sexual ecstasy for great periods of time. I truly do not understand how this could be, yet I find I have a desire to know whether it is true." He paused again. "If I could prolong this ecstasy for you.."

She interrupted him. "SPOCK!" She breathed deeply, let it out slowly. "This is NOT an area where there is any deficiency. NOT, not, not. I don't know why you think there is. You do not need any self-help books."

He looked at her, confusion plain on his face. "But if I could make it better for you..."

"I don't see any way it could be better." Her hands rose up and cupped his face. "Spock, no. You don't need to try anything to make it better."

Although her words pleased him, he still retained doubts. If this was something that human males did to please their mates, then surely he must try it? He did want to please her.

He laid the book back on the small table, leaned his forehead down against hers. "Would you allow me to try a small experiment?"

"What kind of experiment?"

"You asked me about the difference between the way we pass feelings through touch and a true meld. I would... attempt a meld with you... If you are willing." He almost held his breath, waiting for her answer.

"What does that have to do with this book?"

"Sometimes..when you are wrapped around me...I want to share more with you..I want you to understand..how I feel about you..things I cannot find the words to say."

She sighed against him, tension flowing out of her. She rubbed her face against his, brushed his cheek with her soft lips. "Oh, Spock, you don't need to say the words. I can tell from the way you hold me, those feelings that flow from your fingertips, that warmth that invades me. I know, Spock."

"But I would like to, Nyota. I would like to say them." His voice was so low, so husky.

"All right, then. Tell me what to do."

He rose from the couch, pulling her with him. Into the bedroom, before the closet, he carefully removed her clothing, hanging it in the closet, then removed his own and hung it there as well. Then he took her hand and led her to the meditation area. He turned and changed the disc in the music player and room filled with long, slow swells of deep, deep sound. He turned the lights very low. Then he knelt and lit the incense stick laying beside the fire pot. He settled himself on his usual floor pillow, folding his legs in front of him like always.

Then he reached for her, bringing her down across his lap, her feet behind him on the floor. He settled her on his thighs, brought her arms over his shoulders, placed her hands on the back of his neck. He slid his hands up her back, up the back of her neck, cradling the back of her head. He bent his head so that their foreheads once again touched. He could feel her, drifting through his consciousness, _confusion, desire, love_. His Nyota, so open to him. Keeping his left hand behind her head, he lowered his right hand and began to stroke her, softly, slowly, making her wet. She sighed against him, shivers running over her skin. He slid his fingers inside, stroking, finding the spot that made her arch against him. She moaned now. He removed his fingers from her and lifted her gently with his hands around her waist, moving her towards him until he could slide her down his hard hot erection. When their bodies were as close as they could possibly be, he stroke her again with one finger until she was gasping at him.

"There, Nyota, stay just there. Hold that for me. Please." He raised his right hand to her face, his fingers hovering over the places where he longed to put them. He spoke again, in a whisper. "I have little experience with this. And none in this way. If you do not wish me to continue, please tell me."

"Spock, if you need this, then I am very willing. I want you always to tell me what you need." She moaned a little as he moved, just a small amount, within her, unable to help himself.

He laid his fingers softly against her face, moving them slightly until he found just the right nerves, the right blood vessels, the points that would facilitate the merging of their minds. Slowly, carefully, he prodded at the edges of her consciousness, finding the places to slip in. She opened before him like a beautiful flower bud, showing him the layers of her mind. He drew her back, back across the bridge between them, until she touched his mind, hesitantly sending out tendrils of herself to find him. It was easily the most sublime occurrence of his life.

Their bodies perfectly balanced against each other, intertwined and hovering on the edge of ecstasy, sent constant sensations that their minds interpreted and shared. He could feel himself inside her, pulsing, but also he could feel himself surrounding himself, feel how it felt to feel the small muscles clench down on that firm hot part of him that felt the soft warm wetness of her all around.

He could feel _all_ of her - her hopes, her ambitions, her childhood, the pain in her left big toe where she had stubbed it on the bed frame this morning, nothing was hidden, all was open, and her love for him flowed through it all, filling him up until he was sure he would burst if she fed him any more. And he could feel her, her wonder as she touched here, there, everywhere, finding him totally amazing, reveling in the depth and intensity of the feelings he had for her. And then she moved against him, just so slightly, her breasts pressing against his chest just _so_, and her hips tilting just _this much_ towards his body, the small muscles within her rippling against him, and ecstasy was everywhere and everything, overpowering, wonderful, glorious, bouncing back and forth between them in a long, long roll of _feeling, passion, love_. And he knew, with no doubt whatsoever, that she was and always would be _his_, just as he was and always would be _hers_.

After some indeterminable amount of time, his fingers drifted from her face and he wrapped his arms about her, holding her close until the last of the shivers and shudders eventually passed. And then he rose carefully, and carried her to the bed, still sheathed within her, and laid them down together.


	14. Chapter 14: Too Beautiful For Words

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Fourteen : Too Beautiful For Words**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late April 2258, Monday 1115**

He sat at his desk, grading papers. Nyota had just made a fresh pot of tea and he was inhaling the fragrant scent of her mother's newest blend. He was about to comment on it when the com link chimed. "Commander Spock here."

The Commandant's secretary's face appeared on his screen. "Please hold just a moment, Commander."

_What did that man want now? _Spock was uncharacteristically irritated. He took a deep breath and centered himself.

The Commandant's face appeared quickly. "Commander, I just wanted to thank you and Cadet Uhura again for the wonderful job you did at the reception. We had such good response and I really think the two of you are responsible for a great deal of that."

"Thank you, sir. It is good that we were able to assist you." _There had to be more reason for this call_. Behind him he could sense Nyota stiffening up. _She knows something is coming, as well._

"Well, Commander, I am not sure whether you are aware that there is an exhibition of Academy skills set for this weekend."

Warily, Spock replied. "I believe I have heard something about this."

The Commandant hemmed and hawed a moment. "One of the people who was going to participate in the physical talents part of the exhibition had unfortunately come down with something that prohibits his participation. He's in the Medical Center and will probably be there for two or three more weeks." He stopped and looked at Spock expectantly.

Spock suppressed a sigh. He could see another big hit on his free time coming. "And how exactly does that affect me, Sir?" Out of sight of the com link pickup he felt Nyota's hand lightly against the back of his elbow. Very grateful for that calming touch, he tried desperately to control his growing irritation.

"Well, it occurred to me that we have a very unusual skill that we could use to fill in the hole in the program. Right here on the Academy campus we have a unique representative of a very rare physical skill." The Commandant positively beamed.

Spock began to see where this was headed. Apparently Nyota did as well, because her fingers suddenly clutched hard at the back of his arm, then dropped down to the top of his thigh.

The Commandant waited a moment to see whether there was any reaction to his statement, then continued. "It would be very helpful to the Academy, Commander, if you and Cadet Uhura could make a short presentation of suus mahna on Saturday afternoon. I will have my secretary send the particulars. He started to sign off, then turned back again. "Oh, and do draw on the Academy stores for any sports clothing you may need." With that he did sign off.

"The nerve of that man!" Nyota was incensed. "He didn't even ASK!"

Spock swiveled his chair around and grasped her hands in his. _Calm, Nyota_. She struggled, breathing heavily.

"How are we supposed to work up a presentation that quickly?"

"We will definitely _not_ work up a presentation. What we _will_ do is perform one or two katas. I just need to decide which ones." He stopped and looked at her. "You can do this, Nyota. You are quite capable. Do not be concerned."

She huffed a bit, but was calming down. "But we'll need to practice. And then we'll lose Saturday again _this_ week. It's not fair!"

"I would agree with you that this is pushing us quite hard. It does seem excessive to require our participation two weekends in a row. However, I do not see how we can refuse." He stroked her fingers, softly.

She sighed. "Okay."

Just then the com link chimed again. It was the details from the Commandant's secretary, along with a charge code to use at the Academy stores for clothing for their 'performance'.

Nyota read over his shoulder. "Okay, send me that charge code and I will start looking at what's available that looks like 'performance' clothes. I guess it ought to have the Academy logo featured prominently. Do you have any color preference?"

He thought for a moment. "You should wear red. It is fitting. I do not care what you decide on for me, except that it probably should _not_ be red." He paused again, thinking. "Not restrictive, of course. Perhaps something that will flare when you spin." He noticed that Nyota was looking at him with her mouth quirked up. The tips of his ears heated up. He had _really_ liked that orange dress.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do. I'll keep spinning in mind."

She was definitely smiling at him now. He turned back around, trying to hide his discomfort - and his pleasure.

**Nyota**

She brought up the Academy stores list of sports clothing, scrolling through the choices. Since Spock had said that she should wear red, it was probably best to put him in dark grey if it was available. Hmm, that looked nice. She noted the inventory number and scrolled further. Oh, yes, that would be perfect for him! Now to find something for herself. That took longer, but she did find something she liked. She took her list of inventory numbers and shut down the com unit. It was past time for her to be eating her lunch and her stomach was telling her so. Just as she was about to start putting things in her carry bag, Spock spoke.

"Nyota, it is past time for you to get nourishment. You do need to eat now, so that you will be able to practice this afternoon."

She turned to see him watching her. "Yes, I'm ready to go now. I'll go to stores after I eat and pull this stuff." She waved the small PADD with the inventory numbers. She dropped it into her carry bag and stood up. He was still watching her. "I'm okay with this. It just took me by surprise. Don't worry about it, okay?"

He did seem to relax just a bit. He nodded at her, then reached out two fingers towards her. She touched them lightly with hers before leaving the office.

***

She grabbed a quick lunch, then almost sprinted across campus to the building housing the stores. She presented her PADD with the inventory numbers and charge code, giving the clerk behind the counter her id and Spock's so that he could access the database containing their measurements to pull the correct sizes. She had him bundle the outfits up separately. With difficulty, she got both parcels into her carry bag. Then she headed quickly back across the campus to her dorm room, taking out her parcel and hanging the clothing she had chosen in her closet. She would take Spock's to him at supper time.

Once more, back across the campus to the gym. She was certainly getting a workout today! She changed quickly and managed to get out on the gym floor only a few minutes later than usual. Spock was waiting, with the music player ready to go. She hurried over to find out which katas he had decided on.

***

She was making him nachos for supper again and he was practically drooling he was so eager for them to come out of the oven. She had made twice as many as the first time. She guessed the way to any man's heart must be through his stomach, even a Vulcan's. She opened the oven door and carefully slid the hot plates out, being very careful not to burn her fingers. She set them on the cooking surface until she could close the oven and turn it off. He was right there, carefully folding one edge of each plate in a napkin and carrying them to the table, setting the hot plates on thick placemats. She smiled to see him so eager.

***

After supper, they curled up together on the couch and read poetry together. This week they had sonnets, mostly written in English, but from several different centuries. And then he wanted to meditate, so she folded herself down beside him and did her relaxation exercises, coming back up slowly to full consciousness when he began to softly stroke her palm with one long finger. He rose and lifted her, carrying her to bed and folding her up against him, so close, so warm. He teased and tantalized her, so slowly, until she was trembling and sighing, and then he laid his fingers on her face and sunk into her until the whole world was a glorious burst of heat.

**Spock**

When he laid his fingers gently on her face, she sighed and pushed against him, just a bit, letting him know that she welcomed this. Something inside him untwisted and opened wide at her acceptance. She was so perfect, so beautiful. He sank into her mind and body at the same time, joining with her so completely that he could not tell what was Nyota and what was himself. They were dahkuh-terau-veh. When their climax burst upon them, it was almost unbearably wonderful.

When he realized that he had let all his weight down on her, he rolled them over, so that she lay upon him, her face in the crook of his neck, both so relaxed that they just lay there and breathed softly on one another for some time, before he whispered softly in her ear. "Taluhk nash-veh, Nyota." She sighed softly, deeply. "I love you, too, Spock." It was very much more than acceptable.

***

The week passed slowly. They could not find another time to practice, Nyota's schedule was too full. They did discuss what they would do, sitting in the office, drinking tea. Friday afternoon, he watched her through the one-way screen in the simulation lab as she worked through two sequential occurrences of the Kobayashi Maru simulation. So efficient, so controlled, professional - her hands flitting swiftly over the controls on her console, totally focused - she was born for this job. He was glad that it was not his responsibility to grade her performance, for he would have been hard pressed to preserve his impartiality.

When she arrived at his quarters, she was tired, and grateful that he had the food almost ready and she did not have to stand and chop vegetables tonight. While they sat on the couch reading, she almost fell asleep. But when he would have taken her back to her dorm afterwards, she was very insistent that that was _not_ what she wanted. And she had taken his hand and dragged him into the bedroom and _devoured_ him. He was still tingling all over his body when he got back to his quarters after walking her to her dorm. He would have to strip and remake the bed - the sheets were ripped to shreds where he had grasped them to keep from bruising her.

**Saturday**

He was half finished with his run before she came through the tunnel. He immediately slowed and pulled even with her almost as soon as she had accelerated from her jog into a full run. He did not push her to run faster this morning, she needed to conserve her energy for the afternoon. He would come for her at 1300, to escort her to the stadium where the exhibition would take place. He watched her as she left the track, watching to be sure she had not tired herself too much.

***

He tapped the touchplate beside her door at exactly 1300. She opened it immediately, carrybag in hand. He inhaled sharply. She had done something very different with her hair. It was pulled up and back, very much as usual, but it was braided, with red cords strung with gold beads interwoven all down the length. She had some sort of band about her forehead, red, with strands of beads hanging on the sides. It was exotic, breathtaking. She was beautiful, his Nyota. She noted his reaction, smiled at him.

"You like it." It was not a question.

"Yeesss." Her smile was much wider. He stood there, just looking at her, until she reminded him that they needed to be on their way.

When they reached the stadium, he escorted her to the women's dressing room, reminding her that he would come for her, and not to leave this area until he did. She nodded and slipped inside. He circled around to the men's dressing area, on the opposite side. Once there, he opened the packet of clothing she had selected for him. There were very tight dark grey shorts that came half way down his thighs and a matching shirt, cut higher than a tank, but with no sleeves. The Academy logo was emblazoned across the front. He dressed quickly, putting the uniform he had worn here in a locker. He picked up the empty packet to put it in the locker as well and realized there was another item. He pulled it out and stared. This had _not_ come from the Academy stores - she had added this. He strode to a mirror and slipped the dark grey headband onto his head, settling it so that the bottom edge was even with the bottom of the hair on his forehead. There across the band, in swirling glyphs, was his name in silver braid.

**Nyota**

She opened a locker and put her uniform in it. Then she opened the packet of clothing she had selected for today and dressed quickly. First a dark red bodysuit, cut high in the legs, just below her collarbones in the front, widely scooped armholes - it would not bind anywhere. Over that there was a skirt - something from the dance section - the same red, very soft, fluid fabric, almost transparent, that wrapped around her and tied on the side, coming halfway down her thighs. Then she reached for the item that she and Gaila had made together, working each evening all week on Spock's headband, her headdress, and this pectoral that settled about her shoulders, covering her upper back and chest - red cords, gold beads, intricately knotted with loose ends that would fly about her. She admired herself in the mirror - yes, she was certain that she looked exotic and eye-catching, just as desired. She went to stand near the entrance to the stadium floor, waiting their turn.

When the person wearing the headset and carrying the PADD with the schedule motioned to her, she advanced toward the stadium entrance, waiting for their music. When the low drumbeats started, she started slowly out onto the floor, advancing to the center in time to the measured beats. She paid no attention to the noise generated by the crowd, which hushed when she stopped, exactly one meter from Spock. His eyes were so dark, looking at her. She held his eyes, waiting for his signal. And then they were moving, dancing about each other, spinning close, reaching out, tapping each other lightly in the decided movements. They finished the first kata and flowed directly into the second, focused solely on each other, totally ignoring the wildness of the audience reaction. When they finished the second kata, they stopped in exactly the same position they had started in and bowed to each other. The stadium erupted. They straightened up, turned, bowed to the audience, straightened again, waited for the noise to subside. It did not. They bowed to the audience again, circling to face another segment of the seating. Straightened, waited. Still no sign that the commotion would soon cease.

And then the Commandant was striding across the floor towards them. He grabbed their hands and held them up. He must be wearing a voice amplifier, because his words boomed out loudly. "Wouldn't you like to see more?" The resulting noise was deafening.

Spock turned to him, astounded. "Sir, she is winded, she needs to rest."

"Nonsense. She's fine. Now this crowd wants more, and we don't want to disappoint them, do we?"

She was incredulous. She looked at Spock - what were they going to do? Her breathing was not yet normal, but she wasn't actually that tired.

The Commandant said something else to the audience and strode off the floor. She heard their music starting again. "Spock, what are we going to do now?"

"The third and fourth katas. Be careful. Do not exert yourself so much that you overtire yourself." Then he was straight, waiting for her. Quickly she positioned herself. Once more he spoke to her, just loud enough to be heard. "You are beautiful, k'diwa."

She glowed. Oh, he so knew how to put her in the right mood. At his slight nod, she began the flowing movements. Spinning and twisting, they moved about each other, advancing, retreating, arms and legs flashing. When they finished this time and bowed to the audience, she heard him plainly. "Exit NOW." And so she did, walking slowly and stately across the floor.

She had barely made it to the dressing room when the Commandant's secretary was there, dragging her off against her protests. In short order she found herself next to Spock, besieged by news interviewers and photographers. It was over an hour before they could get free.

She showered quickly and redressed in her uniform, bundling her other clothing into her carrybag. She hesitated, just inside the entrance to the dressing room until she saw Spock coming swiftly in her direction. Then she darted out to him, and he took her quickly in an unexpected direction, to a side entrance to the stadium, where she found a flittercab waiting for them. Quickly they slid inside and Spock punched in directions. "Where are we going?"

"Hopefully where no one can find us for the rest of the weekend." He watched through the windows until they were safely away from the campus, then gathered her close to him. "You were magnificent, Nyota. Absolutely magnificent."

______

dahkuh-terau-veh = two joined as one

Taluhk nash-veh = I cherish Thee

Author's note: We are at the point where this story will start interweaving with the movie. Still at least five more chapters to go, but headed for the ending. So now I'm beginning to think about what to write next, besides continuing Baby Book. I could write more about Spock's cadet days, or go on to the Enterprise's first five year mission, or even both. Input requested and welcome.


	15. Chapter 15: Every Little Thing She Does

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Fifteen : Every Little Thing She Does is Magic**

**Spock**

**Starfleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Late April - Early May 2258, Monday 1115**

The flittercab stopped at a transit station - not the one near the campus, but one further into the city. Spock stepped out, waited for her, then walked quickly to the corner of the station where the transporter pads were. He motioned for her to wait, then walked silently up behind the sole technician on duty and touched the side of the man's neck. The technician folded down, Spock catching him before he hit the ground. Spock sat the unconscious man on the bench against the wall and his hands flew over the transporter controls. He motioned Nyota onto the pad and came quickly to join her. There was the quick tingle of transporter movement, and they were elsewhere. Taking Nyota's hand, he exited the transit stations and entered one of the two flittercabs waiting outside. It only took a moment to program their destination, and within fifteen minutes they stopped outside a small cabin. He reset the flittercab controls to return to the transit station and walked over to the touchplate beside the cabin door. Now to hope that the controls still remembered him.

He laid his palm against the touchplate and then punched in his id code. He sighed with relief when the cabin door opened. Nyota was looking at him questioningly. "Come inside. I will need to make a call." He motioned her on through the living room and into the kitchen, brushing her face quickly with his fingers before striding back to the com unit in the corner of the living room. Checking again to be sure she was not in the pick-up area, he activated the com unit and placed his call. In a moment, Captain Pike's face appeared on the screen.

"Hello, Spock." the captain halted, looked past Spock and seeing where he was.

"Captain Pike, I hope I have not been too presumptuous, but you have on many occasions suggested that I might make use of your cabin. And today I find I need a place.."

Before Spock could continue, Captain Pike interrupted. "I've seen the news! No need to elaborate. Please stay at my cabin for the rest of the weekend. I'm glad you thought of it. There's food in the stasis unit, staples in the pantry, wood in the bin outside the back door. Oh, and there are extra pajamas in the dresser in the guest room. Just make yourself at home." He smiled at Spock. "I won't say a word to anyone about where you are."

Spock was quick to express his thanks and signed off. Then he turned back to Nyota. "I have visited here many times. Captain Pike was my advisor when I was a cadet. He has always tried to get me to make use of his cabin, but I never had a reason before."

"Well, I'm really glad you knew about this place, because I don't think even the Commandant would think of looking for us here." She relaxed, sighing heavily. "Could you show me where the guest room is, because I think I'd really like to get out of uniform."

He led her off down the hall, found the guest room, and they hung their clothing in the closet. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and found a stock of standard issue pajamas - black tee-shirts and loose pants, with the StarFleet logo on them. He flipped through them, selecting a set for himself and handing one to Nyota. "I believe this is the correct size?"

"Yes, that's it." She pulled the pants on, hesitated a moment, then unhooked her bra before pulling the tee-shirt over her head. She looped the bra over the hook of the hanger she had hung her sweater on. Then she sat on the edge of the bed and unbraided her hair, pulling out the beaded cords and dropping them into her carrybag. She shook her head, loosening up her hair, running her fingers through it to release the braids.

"Well, shall we go see what there is to cook?"

He followed her into the kitchen, glad to see her more relaxed.

***

Of course there was no tofu in the stasis unit, and almost no fresh vegetables. There _was_ fresh fruit. They looked through the staples in the pantry and then considered several options. Eventually, Nyota decided to use the packet of portobello mushrooms they had found to make spaghetti sauce. There was even a long baguette in the stasis unit, as well. He even found a bottle of wine that was a variety he appreciated. They sat at the small table in the kitchen and ate their meal, grateful for the quiet that surrounded them. Afterwards, while Nyota cleaned up the kitchen, he built a fire in the fireplace, carrying in enough wood for tomorrow, as well.

When Nyota finished in the kitchen, he drew her down to the floor in front of the fireplace, where he had spread out a blanket and a few small pillows. All the lights were out, only the flickering flames dancing about, casting shadows everywhere, gave him enough light to see her face, all soft and happy, as he stretched her out beside him, placing one of the small pillows under her head. He caressed the side of her face, her neck, his hand trailing down her body, stroking her arm, then sliding sideways to trace the curve of her breast while he covered her face with soft kisses. She sighed and moved against him, bringing herself even closer to him, her hands wandering, leaving trails of fire behind. He moved slowly, building the fire with her caress by caress, kiss by kiss, until she was moaning, arching her body against him, filling his nose with her scent. And then he slowly began to remove her clothing, trailing kisses and caresses everywhere as the fabric was removed. One long finger circled her nipples, making the aureolas crinkle, the nipples stand up, firm against his finger, then his tongue. She cried out, arching her back, pushing herself against him. He opened the link that seemed to form automatically now, whenever they touched, letting her feel how her response affected him. He gently closed his teeth on one nipple, growling softly against her skin, and felt her convulse, flooding him with the wonder of it.

He did not let her come down very far, continuing to touch, to taste, to kiss, to nibble, moving his hands now below the waist of the loose pants she wore. Her hands were pulling at his shirt, wanting it off, so he stopped for a moment, reaching behind his neck to grasp the collar and pulling it over his head in one swift movement. Then her breasts were grazing his bare chest like brands of fire. It was becoming more and more difficult to wait, his body kept urging him to hurry, hurry, but he wanted to make this last and last for her, so she could feel how much she meant to him, how important it was to him that she was satisfied in every way. He loosed the drawstring in her pants, sliding them down her body and felt her doing the same for him. And then she was against him, everywhere, moaning, hands touching, and he could deny himself no longer. He bent and placed his nose against her wet center, inhaling deeply, flame running throughout his body. She arched up, spreading her legs, offering herself, and he ran his tongue down that soft wet flesh, making her cry out again and again. Trembling now, he moved over her, filling her, moving slowly, slowly, until they both shuddered and the whole world exploded.

***

Sunday they spent the whole morning in bed.

They spent the afternoon on the floor in front of the fireplace.

When darkness had fallen, they reluctantly dressed and returned to the campus, taking a round-about way that they thought would keep them unnoticed. He left her at her dorm with a soft kiss, feeling that bright, tiny spark still with him as he walked on to his quarters.

**Nyota**

**Wednesday afternoon**

They were working on the electrical grid in the Acoustical Engineering lab, so she went up one floor to the message array center and sat in for someone who was ill. There were some odd messages intercepted today, odd enough that she almost went to find Spock. Who could possibly destroy a Klingon battle fleet?

She headed back to her dorm, tired and ready to relax a bit before Chorale practice. Only a few weeks until graduation and there would be a full recital soon that they were preparing for. She entered her room and sat down to remove her boots, talking to Gaila about the strange messages about prison breaks and destroyed fleets. She froze when she heard noises coming from under Gaila's bed. Not again! She demanded that whoever it was come out and was incensed to discover that idiot Jim Kirk. She stormed at him, throwing his clothes at him, pushing him out the door. How could Gaila do this to her!

**Friday afternoon**

She was still incensed with Kirk on Friday afternoon, but she had promised to be in his crew and she couldn't leave him flat. That would be very unprofessional of her and someone would be sure to note it. She was so close to receiving her first assignment and she so wanted to be on the Enterprise. As the simulation progressed, she was astounded at his attitude - he wasn't even trying! And he had _demanded_ this third attempt at the simulation. No one _ever _took it more than once. McCoy looked as astonished and irritated as she felt.

Those inside the simulated bridge could not see the commotion on the other side of the one-way transparency as all the equipment died and came back to life. Spock watched in consternation as something impossible happened to the simulation. He pulled himself together, ramrod straight, holding his fury inside an implacable shell, determined to find out _how_ that repulsive cadet had beaten his simulation.

**Friday evening**

Spock was in a very bad mood. He was so stiff, almost brittle. She couldn't get him to loosen up at all. She didn't dare touch him. Finally, as they sat at the table, she remembered those strange messages and started to talk about them, and he began to relax a bit, focusing on something besides whatever was bothering him so much.

She wasn't sure, after supper, that reading would be a good idea, but he settled down on the couch waiting for her, so she joined him. They didn't always read on Friday evenings, often going out somewhere instead, but this had been a strange week, and they'd missed their quiet times recently because of all the extra demands on them. So now they sat on the couch, close, but not quite touching, and he brought out a book she hadn't seen before. A very old book. A Vulcan book. She looked at him enquiring. This was pre-logic, she was sure. Not something he would ordinarily indulge in. And then he began to read. Oh, my! She could hear the barely suppressed emotion in his voice as he read the old, old poetry to her and was not surprised at all when he suddenly turned and jerked her onto his lap, crushing her to him, his mouth hot and hard against hers.

He rose from the couch, carrying her into the bedroom, almost throwing her down on the bed, landing beside her, burying his face against her, growling and biting her neck. If she didn't stop him, he was going to be ripping her clothes off any minute.

"Spock! Spock, wait. Please let me get undressed." She put both her hands on the sides of his face, willing him control, just for a moment. He panted, his hands clenching, but rolled off her and allowed her to undress, and then undress him. And then he was pulling her down again, all over her, hands and mouth touching everywhere. And then he flipped her over and pulled her bottom up towards him and filled her with one long, smooth stroke and she almost came right then. And then he was pounding into her, bodies slapping together, faster and harder than ever before, carrying her up, up until everything burst into white hot light.

He barely let her catch her breath before he was turning her around, pulling her over him, thrusting up into her again, holding her by her hips and moving so deep inside her. She came again, and again. And then he rolled her over onto her back again, and moved down her body, licking and tasting and lapping up all the wetness there from what had come before, his hot tongue driving her mad. And finally, finally, his hand swept up to her face and touched those points that she was beginning to know so well, and she felt him within and without and everywhere in between. And screamed at him "My SPOCK, MINE!!!", barely conscious that he was growling at her, "My Nyota, only MINE!" before everything disappeared in the most intense ecstasy she had ever experienced.

***

When she came drifting back into consciousness, she found herself draped over him, her face resting in its accustomed spot against his neck. His arms surrounded her and she felt his warm breath against the top of her head. She nuzzled his neck, just to let him know she was aware again, and felt tension flowing out of him.

"Nyota, I do apologize. That was not what I intended."

She lifted her head, placed her fingers on his lips. "Hush. You did not hurt me. That was ... extraordinary." She smiled a small smile at him. "Maybe more than I was expecting, more than I'd want every day, but don't you dare regret that."

He looked at her in disbelief, both eyebrows raised high. "I..I.. Are you sure, Nyota?"

"Very sure." She ghosted her fingers up the side of his face. "Feel."

He enclosed her fingers with his, unfocused his eyes for a moment, savoring her, then looked into her eyes, his warm and soft. "You save me from myself. You give me back my control when it is lost. I do not know what I would do without you, k'diwa."

She gave him a blinding smile and kissed him softly. "You do not have to do without me, not ever."

**Monday morning**

She was getting dressed when the com link chimed and blared with an announcement - all cadets to an assembly at 1000, full uniform. She looked at Gaila, wondering what on earth that was about. Then she changed the clothing she had meant to wear for what had been requested.

***

She had to leave Spock's office before he was back from class in order to get to the assembly on time. She found her assigned seat and settled in, wondering what was going on. Well, finally that total jerk Kirk was going to get some of what was coming to him. Then with a shock she realized who his accuser was. She listened to the acrimonious debate in shock. This was _so_ not like Spock! He obviously had a _very_ serious dislike of this cadet! She continued to watch and listen in trepidation until the totally unexpected interruption occurred - a red alert! What could be causing that? She joined Gaila and headed for the shuttle hanger.

***

She stood behind Gaila, listening to the assignments being read off. Farragut? No way! That was not the correct assignment! Rigid with anger, she stiffened, her jaw set. She had worked too hard, too long to stand for some hard-headed Vulcan logic to deprive her of what she deserved. She strode across the hanger, searching for him, so focused that she did not even see McCoy and Kirk as she strode by.

There he was! She walked up to him, stopped, demanded. He did not even look at her. His eyes went from the PADD in his hands to the view screen before him. Not once did he even look at her out of the corner of his eyes. She was rigid with fury. He started off across the hanger and she followed, berating him, reminding him of his own words. He agreed with everything she said, calmly. Walking slightly behind him, she could not see that he rolled his eyes, focused them on the ceiling, trying to avoid her. He walked so fast she almost ran, trying to keep up with him. She could not see the way his mouth was set, nor could she see when he began to give up, finally slowed to let her catch up with him, turned to face her. Furious, she addressed him with clenched teeth, demanding what was her right. He looked at her, pleading in his eyes, but she was too angry to be observant. His eyes tracked to the side, checking to see how close others were, offering an excuse, but she would have none of it. His eyes came back, locked on to hers, his mouth set.

"I'm ON the Enterprise!" she looked straight into his eyes. He looked back. For long seconds they stood there, nothing else in the whole hanger at all important. And then he looked down, flicked his finger across the surface of the PADD. "Yes, I believe you are." He raised his eyes to hers again, something deep there. She nodded slightly, relaxed some of her anger. He turned and walked away to his next task. She stood there a moment and then headed for the shuttle that would take her to the Enterprise.

**Spock**

He looked at the list of cadet assignments. He only had one left to make. He hesitated. He knew where he _wanted_ her to be. Where she _deserved_ to be. But the Enterprise was the flagship, the ship where the most danger would be. He could assign her elsewhere, where she would be safer. Where no one might even suggest that she had been given a post, rather than earn it. With a great deal of regret, he assigned her to the Farragut.

***

He was standing in front of a viewscreen, updating data in his PADD, when she found him, furious, demanding what was rightfully hers. He tried to ignore her, tried not to give in. He would not look at her, knowing that if he did, he would be lost, he would grant her whatever she wished, what he wished. He must keep her safe! He turned from the viewscreen and walked across the hanger, walking fast enough that she struggled to keep up. Although he could not see her behind him, he knew she walked straight and tall, rigid with fury and pain. She thought he was denying her deliberately. She reminded him of his own words, needlessly. He knew she deserved what she was demanding. Finally reaching a spot that was not crowded with other people, he stopped and turned to face her, knowing as he did that he would not be able to withstand her. She was _so_ angry. He let his face relax, just a little, willing her to look at him, to see what he wanted her to see, but she was far too angry with him. Somehow she knew it had been his decision, and his alone. He rolled his eyes sideways, checking to see how close they were to anyone else, he offered her a reason, which she rejected immediately. Regardless of what she said, he knew there was some truth in his statement. He looked at her again, wanting so bad to touch her, to let her really know how he felt about the matter. That was not possible, not here, not now. She made her demand, forcefully, not glaring quite so much now, but not backing down one bit. He looked back. She was his whole life, how could he deny her? He agreed. He made the necessary change. He saw her relax, just a small amount, some of the fire dying out of her eyes, her stance. But he knew he would have to explain, later. He strode off, more tasks to accomplish. He could not think about this now.


	16. Chapter 16: You Needed Me

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Sixteen : You Needed Me**

**Nyota**

**On Board the Enterprise**

**May 2258**

When she stepped out of the shuttle, there was a yeoman there, directing people, giving room assignments, work assignments, directions to ship's stores to collect uniforms. She followed the line of cadets, drew her uniforms, checked the ship's map to find her assigned room, quickly changed into the ship's uniform, stowing her cadet uniform in the small closet, stashing the remainder of her clothing allotment into a drawer. One quick look around the small room, wondering who she would be sharing it with, and then she was off, down the halls again, headed for her assigned station.

***

Seated at her station, eyes on the displays before her, she heard her name called. _Surely it could not be - he was on probation_. Turning to look over her shoulder, she saw Kirk there, rose out of her chair in astonishment as he spoke intensely to her. She could barely understand what he was saying, and what the hell was that with his hands? She listened intently, using all her communication skills, until it came to her what he was trying to say. _Romulans_? And he was asking her about those communications, the puzzling ones about the attack on the Klingons. And now he was running down the halls, McCoy following him. She found herself caught up in the urgency and followed after at a dead run.

**Spock**

Upon reaching the Enterprise he went straight to his quarters and changed into the ship's uniform hanging in his closet there. Having been on the Enterprise several times already, he had drawn his uniform allowance and his quarters assignment some time ago. He did regret not having shared this information with Nyota, but he had done everything possible to prevent her from thinking that he would or could affect her assignment in any way.

He left his quarters and headed for the bridge, stopping in the halls to sign off on some reports presented to him on the run. He reached the turbolift and punched in his destination, then cocked his head, remembering something he had seen in the hall. _Impossible. That cadet could not be on board_. He entered the bridge, crossed straight to his station, began to assess the information displayed there, reporting his findings to Captain Pike.

After an initial hiccup, the Enterprise entered warp, headed for Vulcan. He was startled when running figures burst onto the bridge. There was that cadet that was _not_ supposed to be on board, followed by the medical cadet that was Nyota's friend - and then _Nyota_? Captain Pike rose from the command chair, incensed, demanding an explanation. Kirk's words tumbled out. Pike was not convinced. Then Nyota spoke up, explaining that she herself had translated that message. He rose from his seat, eyes glued on the confrontation. At Kirks' insistence that they were moving into an ambush, Pike turned to him. He moved closer to the captain, to the insistent cadet, asserting his knowledge of Nyota's competence. Pike stared at him for a moment, then gave orders to the communications officer, who hesitantly admitted that he could not translate those communications, nor even tell the difference between the languages. Before he could even blink, Pike had made a new assignment and Nyota was sitting at the communications console, her fingers dancing over the controls.

Pike gave orders to contact the other ships, but there was so much interference that they could not. After several attempts, he ordered them to a full stop. Still they could not contact the other ships. He watched Nyota, calmly changing frequencies, modulations, making one attempt after another to reach the other ships. Nothing worked. She finally got an open channel and Pike gave a warning. Then they were into warp again, then back out, suddenly in a maelstrom of hurtling debris.

"Evasive Action!"

"Red Alert!"

Sirens. Shudders as the ship was jerked about by the helmsman attempting to avoid collisions with chunks of ship parts, torpedos, laser beams. There was some sort of enormous ship out there, unlike anything any of them had ever seen before. The Enterprise was targeted, vast streams of torpedoes headed her way. The helmsman jerked the ship about, weapons officers firing. The ship was hit more than once, slamming people about, gravity blinking on and off. Beside him, Nyota remained calm, working her console, transferring information to the captain. In spite of everything going on around him, he swelled with pride at her continued excellence, her ability to retain her calm focus under fire.

All eyes were on the viewscreen when that unexpected presence announced his intentions. From her station at his side, he saw Nyota rise and turn, riveted by the actions there. He was astonished when that alien addressed him by name. How could this be? He rose from his seat, all eyes now switched from the viewscreen to him. What must he do, how could he possibly stop what seemed most likely to happen at any moment? Apparently that alien had something else in mind, for his next order was for Captain Pike to come aboard his ship.

Quickly the Captain asked for volunteers, and selecting the helmsman and Cadet Kirk, ordered them to follow him, quickly, and motioned him along as well. Striding down the corridor, he issued quick orders, brooked no discussion, what he said was the way things would be. He did not understand all of the captain's decisions, but had to accept them - they were orders. At first he thought the Captain was perpetuating some sort of strange joke on him, but no, the captain was deadly serious. How could Pike possibly think that Kirk and he made _any_ kind of a team?

He was the _captain_? Unexpected did not even begin to cover his reaction. He returned to the bridge, settled himself in the command chair, and began to ask for status reports. When McCoy answered from a sick bay obviously severely damaged, he made a field promotion, knowing from experience that that particular medical officer was competent in emergencies.

Behind him he heard Nyota's voice declaring that the interference had ceased. That meant that at least one of the three men sent down had managed to complete their mission to disable that drill. But it had drilled deep into Vulcan. What effect would that have?

He was startled by the voice of Kirk exclaiming that something had been launched down that hole into the center of Vulcan. To his horror, he heard the young lieutenant with the horrible accent informing him that a black hole was forming in the center of the planet of his birth. He rose quickly from the command chair, giving the order to sound a planetary alert. For a few seconds, he stood face to face with Nyota, then he turned and headed for the turbolift. There was no time to talk to her, no time at all. She followed him to the turbolift, questioning. No, he must go, there was no other way. He turned, inside the turbolift, facing her, "Lieutenant Uhura, you have the conn." She could handle this, he had no qualms at all. He trusted her implicitly.

"Yes, Sir." She looked at him, eyes full of emotion, nodded briefly. Her eyes were still on him when the doors to the turbolift closed.

**Nyota**

When the turbolift doors closed, she ran back to her communications station, throwing herself into her seat, hands dancing over the controls again. There was another officer at the science station now, relaying information. And then Chekov was leaping from his seat, running off down the corridors, headed for the transporter deck.

She monitored what was going on there, hearing the loud thump as Kirk and Sulu hit the transporter pad, hard. She heard Spock order them off the pad, heard their startled alarm when they realized that he was heading for the planet's surface. Heard the whine of the transporter, taking him into more danger than she could even comprehend. Her heart clenched within her chest. _She might never see him again_. She did not have time to consider this, no time at all, there was too much going on around her, to much to deal with.

**Spock**

He grabbed a utility belt, stuffed a communicator in it, strapped it about him, all as he was ordering the two men off the transporter pad, crouching down because he did not know where he would beam down or what would be happening there. He felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam and then he was _there_ - on that hot red planet where he had been born. He had no time to stop and consider that this was the very last time he would ever be there - he ran for the entrance to the katric arc, through the dim tunnel, up the stairs to the elders gathered there. There were his parents. He spoke quickly, trying to convince them of the urgency. He held out his hand to his mother, and she came quickly and grasped it. He pulled her toward the tunnel, through falling rock, urgent to get her out where the transporter could lock onto them. He put his arm around her, protecting her, helping her along. His father was right behind them, the other elders following. He could hear rocks crashing down behind them, all around them. He had to get her out of the tunnel. They emerged into the light, the ground shaking, rocks falling from the cliff face. He flipped open his communicator, called the ship, demanded to be beamed up, NOW! He felt the familiar tingle of the transporter begin, felt the ledge begin to crumble beneath their feet, saw his mother turn to face him, her eyes wide, saw her hand reaching out for him, and then she was gone. NO! He reached for her, and then he was on the Enterprise.

He stood in shock, his arm extended toward where she had been. His arm dropped, his head turned toward the disc where she should have been. The empty disc. He took two steps forward, towards that disc, looking down at it. Empty. She was not there.

Somehow he made his way back to the bridge, seated himself in the command chair. But he could not stay there. He rose, headed toward the turbolift, oblivious to the fact that behind him, Nyota removed the communication control unit from her ear and rose from her station, following him. He strode into the turbolift, touched the controls, stood there, eyes on the floor. Just as the door started to close, Nyota stepped inside. He lifted his eyes to her. The doors closed. His eyes locked on hers, he stood frozen. She turned her head, pushed the stop button. He could not remove his eyes from her, she had his full focus. There was so much pain on her face, in her eyes. How could she show the pain when he could not? She lifted her hands, placed them on each side of his neck, her thumbs against the sides of his cheekbones. She was speaking to him, but he wasn't sure what she was saying. He looked into her eyes, unable to formulate any thoughts whatsoever except that this was Nyota, she was here for him. Her fingers bent so that the edges of her fingernails dug slightly into the nape of his neck, then they flattened out again, and she leaned forward and kissed him. He still could not move. Except his eyelids, which drifted closed. Nyota. Through her hands, against his neck, her lips against his, he could feel the familiar, dear warmth of her, rising up within him, cushioning, sharing his pain. Her face moved against his, her cheek rubbing his, her lips planting soft kisses along his jawline. His eyes still closed, he soaked in her warmth, her love, her sorrow, her desire to help, to give him whatever he needed. She bent her elbow, bringing her arm close about his neck, the side of her face now fully against his. His eyelids drifted open again, his control slipping. She hugged him tighter, raised now on her tiptoes. The hand behind him clenched in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, her fingernails again biting into his skin. What had he ever done to deserve her? Now she spread her hand out, fingers apart, cradling the back of his head, pressing her face against his cheek, his ear, his neck. He could feel her so much better now, her love flowing through him, sustaining him. He bent his face down, his chin against her shoulder, his eyes closed again, his arms around her now, his hands reaching to touch her, to hold her close. At her silent urging, he opened up, allowed his pain to flow out to her, allowed her to share it with him. He pulled her closer, buried his face against her a moment longer, his hands on her shoulders. He felt his control gradually coming back, the horrible blackness receding. She strengthened him so, it was more, much more than he had any right to.

There were things he must do. He lifted his face from her shoulder, his eyes open again, his resolve strengthening. She squeezed him hard once more, her lips grazing his neck, then released him, moving back just a little, her hands sliding around from the nape of his neck, grazing his ears just enough for him to feel it. Then her hands were once more on the sides of his neck, holding him, her forehead gently grazing his nose, filling him with her scent. He focused on her again, her lovely face there so close to his. She drew back, looked into his eyes.

"What do you need?"

The same question she had asked before. The one she was always willing to fulfill. His Nyota. Helping him as always. There for him, providing whatever he needed. Saving him again. He concentrated on her, still feeling her presence within, her love surrounding him. What did he need, now? What would help him survive the next little while? He straightened slightly, reached for the control to start the turbolift again, looked into her eyes. "I need... everyone.. to continue performing admirably."

He could see the unshed tears in her eyes. She raised her hands from him, nodded. She understood. Then she clasped him between her hands again and raised her face and kissed him one more time. This time he was able to function enough that he kissed her back. Yes, this helped. She helped. He deepened the kiss. She brought his life back. He felt her fingers softly on his chin, his neck, then dropping away. She began to pull back slowly, he followed her, not wanting to break their contact, wanting her. And then she rubbed her face against his once before leaning against him, forehead to forehead, sharing the link more fully again.

He sensed the lift stop. The doors would open now. It was time to collect himself. He straightened up, more erect than he had been, much more in control. The doors opened and he strode off down the corridor, not even looking back at her. He did not have to, he could feel her there, behind him, that bright spark she always left with him continuing on down the hall deep within him.


	17. Chapter 17: For Once In My Life

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Seventeen : For Once in My Life**

**Nyota**

**On Board the Enterprise**

**May 2258**

She was back at the communications station on the bridge, monitoring across all the channels, trying to assess what was happening, to intercept any signals that immense ship might produce, to do anything she could to provide information to Spock and the other officers now deep in discussion behind her on the bridge, trying to make sense of what had happened, trying to determine what to do next.

She listened as the discussion became heated, cooled off a bit, went in odd directions. She rose from her seat, intrigued. "An alternate reality. An alternative past."

Spock looked at her, agreed. Then he looked back to Kirk, gave orders. Kirk failed to accept those orders. Spock, McCoy and Kirk were actually arguing now. Spock and Kirk were interpreting Pike's orders in totally different ways. Kirk would not give up, he was yelling, fighting. She watched in horror as Kirk became violent, struggling with the other bridge officers as Spock ordered him off the bridge. Spock stepped in and laid his hand against the side of Kirk's neck, his fingers closing on sensitive nerves, and Kirk collapsed to the floor. _What was happening to them all?_

**Spock**

When he came back on the bridge, that upstart Kirk was sitting in the command chair. Brusquely he ordered him out of it. The other bridge officers began asking questions, making suggestions. Everyone was trying to make sense out of what had happened, trying to understand how that ship could be so far advanced from theirs. The discussion was interesting, but did little to resolve their situation. Kirk insisted that they must retrieve Pike, while he was determined to follow the last order Pike had given him, which was to rendezvous with the remainder of the fleet in the Laurentian system. There was much argument. Kirk eventually became so unruly that it was necessary to subdue him and remove him forcibly from the bridge. That man was too distracting, he could not focus with him around, he must be removed. He gave the order to have him removed from the ship. Now maybe he could focus on what must be done.

***

After he had received status reports from all of the bridge officers, he strode over to where the doctor stood and expressed his awareness of the difficulties the doctor must have had in separating his professionalism from his friendship in the matter of James Kirk. For some reason the doctor did not take his statements in the way in which he had intended them. Instead, he accused Spock of being _illogical_. He looked at the doctor, irritated, and offered to walk the halls weeping and wailing if that would benefit the crew. He was appalled at himself. His control was slipping again. He needed some quiet time with Nyota - her calmness would be extremely beneficial to him now.

He saw his father enter the bridge, escorted by a security officer, and crossed the bridge to speak with him. He thought hard for a moment, then brought his father over to the communications station where Nyota sat, to introduce them. But his intention was forestalled by the totally unanticipated arrival on the bridge of James Kirk and another man. How had he gotten back on board? Leaving his father standing beside Nyota, he crossed the bridge to stand before the two men, demanding to know how they had managed to beam aboard while the ship was traveling at warp speed. Unbelievably they refused to answer, even when ordered and threatened with court martial. He was now beyond irritated. He ordered both men to the brig, but Kirk would not keep his mouth shut. He continued to shout, to insult - and then he did the unthinkable - that le'matya insulted Spock's beloved mother and his feelings for her. He felt anger rise within him. His head began to throb, his vision hazed with green. He heard Nyota rise and yell at Kirk. He was supposed to defend her, not the other way around. He was vaguely aware that McCoy had restrained her, telling her to let him fight. Well, then, fight he would! Of course, he had loved his mother! How could anyone deny that! He lashed out at the hideously insulting human male before him, totally lost in puk-tor-tow. He threw off the security officers who tried to intervene, striking repeatedly at this insect who kept intervening where he had no rights. He threw him against a work station, reached out and closed his hand about his neck. In a moment that cadet who had repeatedly incensed him would be the victim of lan-dovan. Though the haze that enveloped him, he very faintly heard Nyota's calls to him to stop, but even that was not sufficient to clear his mind.

It was not until he heard his name, spoken clearly by his father, that he paused. He released the deadly pressure against the other man's throat, slowly straightening up. The enormity of what he had almost done came crashing down upon him. He was lost, totally and utterly lost.

He crossed the small space to where McCoy stood, hesitantly, tried to draw himself erect, but failed. He relinquished his command, turned, stumbled towards the turbolift. He had let his emotions take total control, with disastrous results. He passed Nyota, seeking her eyes, her forgiveness and found her watching him, her face so sad. He could not look away from her, nor she from him. He had failed her. He hung his head in shame. Behind him, he did not see his father turn his gaze to Nyota, back to Spock, then to Nyota again, before following after him.

**Nyota**

She watched in horrified disbelief as Jim Kirk insulted Spock over and over again, as Spock became more and more agitated. So much had happened to him in such a short span of time and he had had no chance to deal with it at all. She could not imagine how torn he was - and now that idiot Kirk was making it so much worse! How could he do that? Had he no sympathy, no empathy at all?

And then the unthinkable happened and she watched Spock completely snap. He was going to kill Kirk! She yelled at him to stop, but it did not seem to have any effect at all. Then beside her she heard Sarek speak one word only, calmly, surely, authoritatively. "Spohkh." And it penetrated. He froze, his hand still at Kirk's neck, then slowly released the pressure and backed away. He looked so lost, so stunned. She wanted to run to him, to gather him up in her arms and console him, but she knew that he would not approve of that, not in public, certainly not after what he had just done. She watched, almost in tears, as Spock spoke to McCoy, relieving himself of command, then stumbled across the bridge towards the turbolift. He did not raise his eyes from the floor until he came even with her, and then he raised his head and looked into her eyes, so lost. She locked her eyes on his, willing him strength, wishing there was some way to let him know she understood. She kept her gaze locked on his until he had passed her, entering the turbolift. His father followed after him. Perhaps he could offer some words that would help Spock until she was relieved from duty and had a chance to find him, to offer solace.

She watched in stunned disbelief as Kirk took command, settling down in the chair that belonged to Spock. Mockingly she called him "Captain". He certainly didn't deserve what he had taken. Kirk seemed more subdued than she had thought he would be - she had expected his usual cocky arrogance.

**Spock**

He strode through the corridors of the ship. Not in his normal, controlled stride, hands behind back. Now he was slightly hunched, mouth slightly agape, arms hanging at his sides, mind tormented. After some indeterminable amount of time, he found himself standing on the transporter deck, staring at the empty spot where _she _should have been. The first human woman whom he had loved. The one he had never told of his love. Never. And now there was no way to do so. He had regained enough control that he stood in something approaching his normal stance, mostly erect, with his hands clasped behind him. At length, he realized that his father stood behind him, watching. He listened in stunned amazement as his father agreed that sometimes feeling _must_ be expressed, that sometimes anger was _logical_, and that, in spite of what he had said when Spock was a child, that he had married Amanda because he loved her. Sarek had married out of love? He had _loved _Amanda? Why had this been hidden from him? This was then_ acceptable_? For a Vulcan to love his wife? His father was not that implacable cold hard man he had always thought him to be? His thoughts roiled about, going in many directions. He looked into his father's eyes and saw pain. Totally unexpected pain.

**Nyota**

On the bridge a very unusual conversation was going on. _Two_ Spocks? Time travel? And then on to how to catch up to that immense ship without being discovered. How to prevent the Earth from being destroyed like Vulcan had been. And then young Chekov interrupted with an idea. As they stood discussing his idea, trying to pick it apart, it was supported by the last person most of them had expected to see back on the bridge - Spock, in control again, so much calmer than he had been earlier. Everyone swiveled in his direction. There were some on the bridge whose eyes widened, who watched for further outbreaks of violence. But he remained calm, collected. And then he stated his objective and her heart clenched again. He had _already_ risked so much, lost so much. Surely this was too much. And then Kirk was saying he would go also. They were _both_ insane! And then Kirk clapped Spock on the arm and walked off and Spock just looked after him, a very strange expression on his face.

She followed Spock and Kirk to the transporter room to instruct them on the use of the special communications equipment she would provide them with. She followed as Spock stepped onto the transporter pad, looking up at him. She took another step, up onto the deck and stepped into his arms. There, in front of everyone in the room, he put his hands on her, he leaned down and kissed her. If she wasn't so frightened for him it would have been glorious. She slid one hand on his side, over his heart, to feel that dear beat once more. Spock broke off the kiss, leaned his forehead down on hers, opening up the link between them wider, so that she could feel his love, so clear, so wonderful. He had his hand on the back of her neck, pressing fingers gently to her in the very spot where he had first marked her as his. She could feel him remembering that. And then he was drawing back, releasing her, ready to go. She lifted her eyes to his again, willing him to see how much she loved him, how much she wanted him to come back. And he promised to do so, even though they both knew how unlikely that was. She raised her hand and touched his chin with her fingertips, kissed him lightly once more, dropped her forehead against his nose briefly, her eyes closed, one last burst of _love _through the link. And she stepped back, turning her sad face towards Kirk for a moment, challenging him to bring them both back, alive and well. Then she turned and left the transporter deck, headed back to the bridge.

**Spock**

He entered the transporter deck at a fast walk, Kirk right behind him, Nyota following closely. She was giving them special communications equipment with translator functions. While she equipped Kirk, he stepped up onto the pad, stepped on _that_ disc. Nyota followed him, so quiet, so sad. He looked down at her, needing her so badly. She stepped right up onto the pad, right into his arms. And for once, he paid no attention to anyone else. He slid his arms around her and pulled her close, leaning down to press his lips against hers. She sighed so softly and placed her hands on his sides, one directly over his heart. This might be the very last time that he ever held her like this. This was _not _the way he wanted things between them to end. He wanted more, so much more. But now he must do everything within his power to see that she was safe. If that was successful, then there would be time for everything else. If he was not successful, then there would _be_ nothing else.

He paid no attention when Kirk stepped onto the adjacent disc. This time belonged only to Nyota. He leaned his forehead against hers, opening the link between them, sending her his love. She flowed through him, soothing, warming, _loving _him, strengthening him. He clasped the back of her neck, a symbolic marking, and he sensed that she understood. She was his, he was claiming her in front of all, no longer secret. Even if this was the only moment, still it was important to him for her to know how he truly felt. Slowly he straightened - it was time to go. And then she lifted sad eyes to him and begged him to come back. He promised her, even though he had little faith that he would. He _wanted_ to - did that not count? She did not cry, she was in control, she was admirable. He could not fault her in any way. Her eyes drifted shut and she raised her fingertips to his chin, brushed her lips softly against his one more time, dropped her forehead, grazing his nose, sending him _love_. He would go off on this mission strengthened, full of her, calm and in control of himself. He watched her cross the room, headed back to the bridge, where he knew she would listen for anything he might say. And deep within him, he found that small, bright spark she always left behind. And treasured it.

**Kirk**

Jim Kirk stood on the transporter pad, ready to be beamed aboard Nero's ship. He was hung about with equipment, jumpy with energy, ready to go bust ass.

Beside him on the next disc stood Spock, in the process of being equipped with the special communicator. Cadet, no Lieutenant, Uhura seemed to be giving his First Officer better treatment than he had received. Her hands seemed to caress his chest. Naw, just his imagination.

Then to his utter astonishment, Spock bent his head and KISSED the Lieutenant! What the hell! The very idea that Spock would kiss anyone at all was mind-blowing, but out in public like that? And that particular girl? She was one of the hottest girls at the Academy and he had been trying to jump her for three years now, ever since he had run into her at the bar when Captain Pike was on the recruiting drive. She always gave him the runaround, angry with him for pursuing her.

Beside him, the couple continued to speak softly together, entwined in each other. Spock's hand was on her BUTT!!! What the heck did that pointy-eared guy have that he didn't?

And what the hell - she was kissing him AGAIN! And he was calling her something, a name that Kirk himself had not been able to get out of her in those entire three years. Sounded like Nyota. Nice name. And he was saying something about having something to come back to - Kirk wasn't sure he really wanted to know what THAT meant - although he had a pretty good guess.

Uhura stepped down off the transporter pad and exited the bay, headed back for the bridge to monitor their signals. Kirk turned to Spock, "How'd you get her to tell you her name?" He wasn't sure whether he was angry or tickled to see how discomfited the other man was.

"I have no comment on the matter."

Yeah, sure. He'd _really_ like to know how _that _had come about.

Well, he guessed that girl _really_ wasn't available.

_______________

Le'matya = a Vulcan predator with poisonous claws

Puk-tor-tow = battle fever

Lan-dovan = strangulation by hand


	18. Chapter 18:Help Me Make It Through

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Eighteen : Help Me Make it Through the Night**

**Spock**

**On Board the Narada**

**May 2258**

He felt the familiar tingling of the transporter beam and then they were in the cargo hold of Nero's ship. He glanced quickly around. There - someone where they had hoped to go unnoticed. Quickly he drew his phaser - why had he not had it in his hand to begin with? Beside him, Kirk faced in the opposite direction, phaser also in his hand. They fired swiftly, and then they were running to get out of the open space, to find some shelter. Running, dodging, firing, laser bursts all about them. And then they had found a place where they could kneel, sheltered, and fire at their opponents.

And when this set of opponents had been vanquished, they were on to the next objective. He was astonished at the small craft they found. It was obviously Vulcan, but unlike anything he had ever seen before. And when he entered, he was addressed by name - but as 'Ambassador'. He looked at Kirk oddly - for some reason he did not seem in the least surprised. He had his objective - to destroy the drill, then launch the red matter into Nero's ship. Kirk had his objective - to rescue Captain Pike. But there was one other thing uppermost in his mind - something he had not yet had a chance to say. He spoke to Kirk before the other man could leave, trying to find words, trying to convey a message, but the other would not listen, would not hear the words, assuring Spock that everything was going to work, supremely confident of that. Then Kirk was off, running as fast as he could to get clear so that Spock could launch.

He settled himself, looked at the controls, swiftly intuiting from the known to the unknown, interacting with the small craft. Blasting his way free of the large alien craft, he swiftly approached the tremendous cable suspending the drill above the earth. His brows tensed in concentration, he focused on the readouts displayed about him. And when he had severed that cable so that the drill head went crashing down into the bay, he turned the small craft about and headed back the way he had come. Back toward that immense and threatening ship, diving straight toward it, determined to be the weapon of its destruction. Calmly setting the small craft to self-destruct.

**Nyota**

**On Board the Enterprise**

When the drill started, all communications outside the ship stopped. She could not monitor him any more. No longer hear his rapid heartbeat, his even breath. She steeled herself. It _would _be back! She did not cease in her efforts to obtain a clear signal from either of the two men on their desperate missions.

And when the cable to the drill was severed and the interference ended, she was quick to find their signals again, to lock onto them, to transfer those signals to the transporter deck, and when she saw them locked onto, she was up and running, running, entering the transporter bay in time to see him materialize there, eyes locking to hers, striding swiftly down off the deck and crossing the room to her. He was _**alive**_! And then he was there, grasping her hands, filling her with his relief.

They watched as McCoy took Pike's weight from Kirk, medical personnel swarming around in only a few seconds. And then they were headed back to the bridge, quickly. She was back at her station, hands busy, when the viewscreen filled with Nero's presence again. Kirk and Spock stood side by side before the viewscreen, facing their opponent. Somehow that seemed so right - those two tall young men, so strong and sure of themselves, united against a common foe.

**Spock**

When he felt the familiar tingle of the transporter beam, he felt the relief flood through him. He had feared never to feel that again. The small craft faded from around him and he was once again on the transporter pad, Kirk and Pike on the next disc. How they had all been transported at the same time from different places he had no idea, but he was never going to complain. He heard running footsteps and lifted his eyes toward the door and saw her, running towards him. Down off the deck, across the room, touching her, _feeling _her. Such relief!

He was conscious of McCoy and other medical personnel rushing past, retrieving Pike from Kirk's grasp, and then he followed Kirk back towards the bridge, Nyota following swiftly behind. He followed Kirk towards the viewscreen, seeing Nero's image appear there. And then Kirk made an offer he did not understand. He turned away from the viewscreen, querying Kirk's offer. No, that was _not _logical - definitely _not_ something he desired. Let the le'matya die!

They turned back to the viewscreen. Listened to Nero's rejection of the offered assistance. Turned and took their positions. Watched the destruction of that immense ship, the red matter that had been in the small craft setting off a chain reaction, creating another new black hole. And realized in horror that they were caught in the pull of this new creation. Watched the ship start to crack about them. Heard from Engineering as the new Chief Engineer tried something so fantastic in a desperate attempt to free them. The bridge was flooded with intensely bright, white light, the ship shuddered about them, and then unbelievably they were free.

Kirk swiveled around, looked at him, exulting. He acknowledged with a small nod. They had indeed done well.

***

There was still work to be done. Reports flowed in from all over the ship. Beside him, at her station, Nyota coordinated them, fed information to him, to Kirk. He took great reassurance from her calm, controlled actions. Soon they would be relieved, there would be time to talk with her, to touch her again. It could not be too soon.

And then her relief was there and she was briefing him, but he had a sudden flood of damage reports that he must deal with and then his relief was there and slow, so slow to comprehend what he was saying, and she was leaving the bridge, having delayed until here was no other option. In intense frustration he saw the doors to the turbolift close behind her.

When he at last was free, he strode quickly to the turbolift before anyone else could delay him. He must find her. But he had no idea where her quarters were. He found a terminal, consulted the ship's directory, found her assigned place. Quickly he went there, tapped the touch plate. There was no response. He inhaled deeply. He did not smell her here. Where then? Perhaps she had gone to _his_ quarters? Quickly he strode off down the corridor, took the turbolift again, down another corridor, yes, she had been here, her scent was pooled about his doorway. Quickly he tapped the touchplate and strode into his quarters, but she was not there. Her scent was not here at all. In dismay, he remembered that he had not yet keyed his touchplate for her, not expecting her to be here. Instantly, that was corrected. But now he must search again, his need for her growing with every minute's delay.

Back into the corridor, he stood and turned his head about, inhaling deeply - ahh, that way. Off he went, pausing at each intersection, checking for her scent. He was getting closer, her scent was heavier now. He turned the corner towards the observation deck and saw her ahead of him, almost at the end of the corridor. His steps increased in speed, almost running now. He saw when she heard him, turned, saw him, began to run back in his direction, and then he caught her, lifted her up, clung to her. _**Nyota!**_

**Nyota**

Hours passed slowly as the ship and its crew began to gather itself together again. She funneled internal communications through undamaged circuits, found new ways to route messages, condensed reports, transferred them to the relevant departments. Sent messages out to StarFleet headquarters. She was busy, but always conscious of him there, such a short distance away. Occasionally, they turned their heads at the same moment and exchanged a quick glance, eyes needy. She could hardly wait to be relieved.

Her relief came, was briefed, she had no further reason to be here on the bridge, but he was overwhelmed suddenly, not free to come with her. Reluctantly, she paced slowly to the turbolift. Where should she go to wait for him? Where would he know to find her? Certainly not in the cramped, shared quarters she had been assigned. Where were his quarters? She found a terminal, accessed the ship's directory, _there_. She quickly strode down the corridor, found the right door, tapped the plate. No response. The door did not open. Why had he not keyed his door for her? Well, he hadn't meant her to be here on the Enterprise, had he? She shivered, thinking about what might have happened. How truly lost he would be now if she had not found him, furious beyond words, and made him change her assignment. No, she would _not_ think about that - it had not happened.

But where could she go now? She could not just stand here in front of his door, waiting for him. She was tired, wanted to rest. She would go to the observation deck, sit and watch the stars sail by. She walked off down the corridor slowly. She was almost to the observation deck when she heard pounding footsteps behind her, turned to look over her shoulder, saw him_ running_ at her. She whirled about and darted in his direction, found herself lifted up, enveloped. _**SPOCK!**_

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck, pressed her cheek against his, clung for dear life. And then he was kissing her, so urgently. She could feel the link between them opening wide, feel his fear, his sorrow, his need, his overwhelming relief to find himself back on the Enterprise, alive, to have her back in his arms. She flooded him with love, and joy, and desire. Maybe that was too much, she sensed him slipping, loosening his controls. _NOT HERE SPOCK!_ She pulled her face back from him, tipped her forehead against him, breathing raggedly, unwrapped her legs and slid down his body. And then he was pulling her along with him, practically running, back down the corridor, headed for his quarters.

He tapped the touchplate beside his door, pulling her into the room, touching the controls inside, locking the door to all, setting the com link to automatic answer, turning the lights on dimly, so much urgency in his voice, never letting go of her hand, pulling her along with him, heading for the bed.

"Spock." He stopped, looked at her, eyes wide and dark. She bit her lip. "Spock, I need to pee." His brows drew together, his fists clenched, he stepped back, gave her access to the bathroom. She hurried in, hurried back out again as soon as possible. He was right outside the door, pulling her to him hard, his face against her neck, shaking. "Spock, Spock, ashayam, I am here."

She wound her arms around him, holding him so close, murmuring to him, raining soft kisses on his face, his ears, his neck. He shuddered against her, hands clenching, body tense. "Oh, Spock, I'm here, I'm here."

She drew him back the few steps to the bed, backed up until she felt it against her calves, tried to get him to bend, but he was so rigid that he wasn't giving at all. After several tries, she just gave up and fell backwards, taking him with her. She scooted backwards, pulling him along, until it finally registered on him what she was trying to do. Then he moved quickly, up onto the bed, pulling her along until they were stretched out, heads on the pillow, bodies touching everywhere, still completely clothed, boots and all. And then he shuddered all over again, pulling her over him, pulling her head down against his neck, cradling the back of her head in one warm hand, needing her so badly, finally giving in to all that happened in such a short period of time.

She held him tightly, soothing him as best she could, murmuring softly, fingers stroking, face nuzzled against his neck, sending him _love_, and _calm_, and _peace_ through the link. And slowly, slowly the shudders slowed, the rigid muscles relaxed, the tightly clenched hands opened. And then his voice, heavy and low. "Nyota, I believe we are wearing too many clothes."

And she laughed softly, so glad that he was coming back to himself.

**Spock**

She began slowly to undress them both, while he laid there on the bed and let her, savoring the feel of her hands on him, when he had thought never to feel that again. She removed one piece of clothing at a time, kissing and caressing the newly bared skin, slowly, slowly raising his arousal until his entire body flamed and burned for her. He lay so still, hardly daring to touch her. He wanted her so badly that he was sure he would break her if he moved at all. Her lips moved against his skin, so softly, whispering to him, words of love that moved him beyond imagining. After all that he had done, all that he had lost, he still had her love, her calm, his perfect Nyota. And when her soft cool lips slid down his body and touched him _there_, he surrendered and let himself fly apart, knowing she was there to put the pieces back together again.

**Nyota**

He was so quiet beneath her questing hands. Laid so still. But she heard his breath hitch, heard soft growls, moans as she touched him. Felt ripples upon his skin as her hands passed over him. And through his hands, laid so softly against her, she felt his arousal growing and growing, felt the flames that licked against his nerves. And when she lowered her head and gently tasted him, she felt him let himself come apart completely, serene and confident that she was there, providing the control he had relinquished.

She would have gone to get a wet cloth to clean him up, but he would not let her go, his hands tight upon her, so she used a corner of the sheet instead. And then she settled down against him, one leg thrown over him, one arm laid across his chest, her face against his neck, breathing softly against his skin and waited to see what he needed next.

She must have drifted off to sleep, because she knew she was not fully awake when she felt his hands, his lips upon her body, drifting softly over her skin, slowly, slowly rousing her until she floated on a sea of sensation so intense she was ready to burst from it. And then he slid slowly into her, filling her up, and he had his hand against her face and she was not able to distinguish herself from him, flying higher and higher until they shattered.


	19. Chapter 19:Where Do We Go From Here?

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Nineteen : Where Do We Go From Here?**

**Spock**

**On Board the Enterprise**

**Late May 2258**

The Enterprise limped towards Earth, full of battered crew members and even more battered Vulcans, the few survivors of planetary destruction. He kept finding himself pulled into meetings he did not wish to be part of. Demands were made which he did not wish to fulfill. His duties on the bridge were a calm in a sea of storm. When fatigue and desperation struggled to overcome him, the memory of the calm Nyota had filled him with in the night enabled him to rebuild his control, to continue on with his duties. He had too many duties - too many pulls upon him. He was torn, unable to function correctly.

They reached StarDock. He must assist his father and the other elders in reaching the Vulcan embassy. He watched as Nyota strode towards the StarDock transporter deck with the other bridge officers, the last of the crew to leave. He had not even had a moment alone with her since very early morning, having to be satisfied with longing looks and a very, very brief brush of fingertips against fingertips. It had not been enough. He was struggling for control, now, flailing. He took a deep breath, purposely closed himself up, sealing all the longing deep inside, centered himself, straightened, set off to find his father.

**Nyota**

She stood next to Sulu, watching Kirk receive his honors, barely functioning. She was so tired, still, like the others still stumbling through shock and grief. They were beginning to function again, but she was so afraid. Spock was not here, not with the other instructors. He should have been here. Where was he? Why had he not contacted her once since their return to Earth? And he had not been in his quarters at all, either. She had been there several times and there was absolutely no sign that he had come back there at all. Where was he? She had finally broken down and left him a message, but he had not answered that, either.

**Spock Prime**

He stood in the overlooking gallery, watching the scene below, where the younger version of his life-long friend was receiving the greatly due honors. But he could not see himself there anywhere - and he should be there. He had little doubt what pressures were being put upon him. After trying for twenty-six years to deny his very existence, now it was being required. After seeing him only as a pitifully inadequate, damaged, disadvantaged and dysfunctional being, unfortunately half Vulcan, now he was being perceived as a member of an endangered species, valuable in that where before he had had no value. He could well imagine the turmoil his younger self was going through. And from the memories extracted from the younger version of his friend, he knew that there was a very good reason why his younger self was in even greater turmoil. He must intercede. He must find a way.

**Spock**

He paused outside of Captain - no Admiral - Pike's office. He knew that Pike was only allowed to be in his office for a short time each day. He had purposely arrived at the end of that time period. He straightened up, trying to strengthen his control to do this thing that he abhorred, that he most urgently desired _not_ to do. That must be done.

He stood in the office doorway, waiting to be recognized. Pike lifted his head, saw him there, waved him in, smiling. The smile faded when he saw the document Spock laid on his desk.

"What the hell is this? You can't do this, Spock! For a million reasons. Why?"

"I have a duty to my people. One which I cannot fulfill unless I accompany them to the new planet they have chosen." He swallowed, continued more quietly, more hesitantly. "It is necessary. It is not the life I would have chosen for myself, given the option - not the life I _had _chosen for myself."

Pike stared at him. Glared. "And what about that remarkable young communications officer? The one you've been obsessed with for almost two years now?"

He started, jerked. _Just how much did Pike actually know? _Looking full into the other man's eyes, he realized that much more was known than he had realized. He stammered, not prepared for this question. "I.. She.. I .. In time, she will.. I am sure that she will ..find a human male...who will .." He could not continue, not voice this horror, not even imagine something so awful, so terrible. He was breaking again.

"Are you out of your fucking MIND! How can you even imagine such a thing! Damn it, that woman worships the ground you walk on - that kind of feeling doesn't come along every day, man! She isn't ever going to get over you - she's going to go through life alone! Think about that for a while, if you can't think about the career you're throwing away, the waste of what you have been, could be." Pike lowered his head, struggling for control, while Spock sat there stunned, his mind awash with new thoughts, new conjectures.

Pike raised his head again, fatigue deeply lined on his face. "I'm NOT turning this in now. It's going to sit here on my desk. If you actually go off with them, I'll backdate it and turn it in. Otherwise, I sincerely hope to be able to tear it up! Now get out of here before I lose it completely and start yelling at you again."

***

For the first time since returning to Earth, he entered his quarters. The light on the com link was blinking. He crossed to it, thought to simply erase the contents, assuming it was more of the news programs trying to get interviews, then thought better of it and selected the playback. Nyota's sad face filled the screen, sorrowful words falling from her lips. His heart clenched hard and he fell into the chair before the screen. Was Pike right?

He had not intended to hurt her. He certainly had not MEANT to hurt her. He had had absolutely no _DESIRE_ to hurt her. There was no other way. Surely she understood that. There was only one logical path to take. She was extremely intelligent, surely she had analyzed the situation and come to the same conclusions that he had. Had she not?

But then she did not have the advantage of twenty-five years of training in taking the logical path. Of foregoing emotional responses in determining her actions. Perhaps it had NOT been clear to her what must be done. Perhaps she had not anticipated his actions. He was not used to such considerations. Perhaps she had thought him harsh, unfeeling. He was by no means unfeeling.

Somehow he must make her understand that. In trying to prevent pain, he had caused it.

He sent a short message, text only. He could not let her see how her message had affected him.

***

The door to his apartment slid open and she entered. The lights were off. The table was not set. There were no books laid out on the couch. She stopped, confused, looking about. Was he not here? "Spock?"

"Here", he said, from the shadows near the window.

She moved slowly to him, stopping when she was so close he could feel the heat of her body. She looked into his eyes, there in the shadows. "Is something wrong?"

With his eyes never leaving hers, his hands came up and gently grasped her arms, pulling her the last small increment towards him until their bodies touched. She stood there, soft against him, her breath warm against his face, not moving. So slowly it was hard to see the movement, her arms came up and encircled his body.

"Yes", he breathed, "No, everything is right now. You are here. Please stay." His voice was rough, barely audible.

She leaned into him, her body almost limp. He felt dampness against his neck. "Spock. Make love to me, Spock, now, please."

He gathered her up, carried her to the bed, laid her down, lowered himself down beside her, folded himself about her, held her close while she cried. While he cried.

And then he slowly removed their clothing and worshipped her. One last time.

*******

She would not allow him to walk her back to her dorm. Tears brimming in her eyes, she refused. "I can't, I just can't, please don't."

Hesitantly, slowly, he reached his fingers towards her temple, and she hesitated, and then leaned her face into his hand, the tears falling now, her love and sorrow flooding him. He tried to fortify her, but succeeded only in sharing sorrow - and love, so much love. He let his fingers fall again and she turned and walked out the door.

He stood there before the door for a long time, head bowed, before going to begin his packing.

***

He was in the shuttle hanger, overseeing the loading of supplies being furnished by the Federation to the Vulcan people to assist them in their building of a new home. He strode across the floor towards the shuttle currently being loaded, seeing what appeared to be a familiar figure there, but not understanding what he was doing here. Approaching closer, he spoke. "Father?"

The other man stopped, turned, spoke to him in Vulcan. "I am not our father."

He stopped in confusion. Tilted his head, studying. Things began to fall into place. Bits and pieces that had been so confusing, so unclear, began to settle into an explanation. "Fascinating."

The other - _himself_ - approached, his posture so familiar, yet subtly different. He asked questions, received answers. He watched - _himself _- more at ease with himself than _he_ had ever been - except the last few months - when Nyota had been there. He watched the other's face, so much more expressive than he ever allowed his to be. More expression in his voice - had it always been like that for this other? No, it could not have been, for he too had surely been raised on Vulcan, had the same upbringing, the same schooling. This then was the result of living among humans for so many years, of serving in StarFleet, having _friends_. This was what he _could _have become, _would_ have become. He listened to the other tell him how important his friendship with the other Kirk had been, how they had achieved much together. At first it seemed highly implausible, but thinking about the events on the Narada, he began to see how it might have happened. They had worked well together, eventually. They had begun to see how to understand each other, barely. He listened in shock as his other self professed to having _lied_. And then tried to excuse it.

Finally he spoke of the thing that hung heavy over him. That thing he had no wish to do. And found an alternative that he had never even considered. An option so appealing that he could barely even think about it. _He could be in two places at once? Fulfill his obligations to his people __**and**__ have the life he desired? Was this truly possible?_

He regarded his older self. He asked for advice, received permission to ask for it in the future. HIS future, his _own_ future. If that other was to be _there_, then he could be _here_? Possibilities opened up before him.

The other turned, strode off. Stopped, turned, gave the traditional salute, offered _luck_. Strange. He responded, offering the salute in return, noting how alike they were - and how different. He stood, lost in thought, and his older self turned again, offering one last piece of advice.

"Do not lose her. She is your strength, the center that holds you together throughout whatever comes in life." And then he was gone. _Fascinating_.

**_________**

Author's note: Extremely hard chapter to write. I cried. Sorry, but you had to know what was coming in this chapter. One more to finish this off.


	20. Chapter 20:You Are My Destiny

**You Had Me From Hello**

**Chapter Twenty : You Are My Destiny**

**Spock**

**Vulcan Embassy, San Francisco, Earth**

**Early June 2258**

He stood before his father, his mind made up, at peace now. Well, almost. There was one thing that was still filling him with trepidation - but he could do nothing about that now - it must wait. Before he could open his mouth to begin his rehearsed speech, his father spoke.

"Spock, my son, so _finally_ you have come to your senses."

Spock gaped at his father in astonishment. He struggled to regain his composure. "Father?"

"Sometimes my son, you do not display your intelligence very well at all. You have decided to stay in StarFleet, have you not?

"Yes, that is the decision I have made, after much meditation, much consideration. It was not an easy decision to make, I did feel the compulsion to assist the Vulcan people very strongly. However, I have received some advice from those older and wiser than I which has influenced me greatly." He paused, noting no surprise on his father's face. Not that he would have expected to see much emotion there, but it did seem that the recent events had caused his father to act in ways that previously he would have considered flatly impossible.

"Do you not remember my telling you that you must choose your own path, my son? This is the correct path for you, I have no doubt. Will you be able to rejoin your ship, or have you delayed too long?"

"I have sent my belongings on ahead earlier today. And spoken with Admiral Pike as well. When I take my leave of you I will be heading directly for the Enterprise." He paused a moment. "I do appreciate your response, Father. It does make it easier for me."

Sarek nodded his head gently. He looked steadily at his son. "And after you are settled there, will you do me one favor?"

"Certainly, Father. What do you desire?"

"Will you make a subspace call to me and introduce me to your bondmate?"

Spock was speechless. He stood there in shock. Finally he managed to make his mouth form words. "Father, we..we are not bonded. I will admit that there is a young woman there who is very dear to me, but ..."

Sarek interrupted. "Spock, bonding with a human is not the same as bonding with a Vulcan. It does not happen immediately, but over a period of time. And must be initiated from the female. Have you not felt this?"

Spock was silent, remembering that small, bright spark that Nyota always left behind her. He marveled. "That is what that is?"

Sarek almost smiled. "Yes, my son. And it would have been completely impossible for you to have bonded with another while that was there. And it is still there, is it not?"

"Oh, yes, Father, very much so." Spock came so close to outright smiling that his father quirked his lips up in an expression that Nyota would have found very familiar. "I..I must go. I must not miss the shuttle. We.. We will call you - when you are settled on New Vulcan." He raised his hand in the familiar Vulcan salute, but to his total surprise, his father took a step forward and embraced him.

He left the embassy full of wonder at all that had happened and swiftly strode the short distance to the transit station, beaming directly to the Academy, almost running to the bay where the shuttle was parked, wanting to be certain he did not miss it.

When the shuttle reached SpaceDock, he did run, down the long corridor to the transporter deck, beaming aboard the Enterprise with very little time to spare.

**Nyota**

**StarFleet Academy, San Francisco, Earth**

**June, 2258**

Listlessly, she packed up her belongings, dressed in her ship uniform, called for transport, boarded the shuttle to SpaceDock. She knew she should be thrilled, but she was still not entirely herself. Once at SpaceDock, she oversaw the routing of her luggage to the Enterprise, then walked slowly down the corridor. The rest of her life was starting, the career she had worked so hard for, the life she wanted - except for one very important part that was so dreadfully missing. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, straightened up, strode on down the corridor. She would endure.

She arrived at the transporter deck, was sent to the Enterprise, checked in with the yeoman there, who gave her her new quarters assignment - she was a bridge officer now, she would not have to share her quarters with anyone. When she arrived at the door, she placed her palm against the touchplate, entered her id, confirming her identity. The door swooshed quietly open and she stood in the room she would live in for the next five years. A sitting area, with a couch and small table with two chairs, a smaller sleeping area, with bed and dresser, her own small bathroom. There was a desk, with a com unit on it, a replicator, even smaller than the one that had been in Spock's office. Her boxes sat on the floor in the sleeping area. She glanced at the chronometer set into the wall above the desk - she had two hours until the time specified in her orders, she might as well unpack.

***

When she had her clothing stored in the small closet and the dresser drawers, her toiletries stashed in the bathroom cabinet, she was left with books, photos, and other small items to find places for. There was a bookcase built into the wall beside the desk, with restraints to fasten across the front. Her books fit there easily. She took her few dishes and stored them in the cabinet beneath the food replicator, glanced at its menu - very limited - she would not be eating many meals in her room. She looked around the room, finding places to put her small treasures where they would be secure. Now she folded up the transit boxes, placing them outside her door in the hall, as instructed. She was ready for duty now - and the time was right. She stepped into the small bathroom, checked her appearance, made use of the facilities, squared her shoulders and headed towards the door to the hall. As she approached her door, she saw the touch place there on the wall, with the control pad above it. She hesitated. Then slowly her hand drifted to the pad, entered the familiar code there, saved it. She could always pretend that he would be there to use it. She touched the pad and stepped into the hall as the door opened.

She walked down the hall to the turbolift and ascended to the bridge, crossing behind the command chair to her station and sitting down to begin the departure checklist. This was real, this was now, this was her life. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. Sulu and Chekov were laying in the course out of SpaceDock, chatting at their stations before the viewscreen. McCoy entered the bridge, crossing to stand in front of her, beside the command chair. She swiveled her chair about, making her report, then turned part way back as the captain entered the bridge, wearing his gold command shirt for the first time. She noticed that the marks from the fight on the drill and the struggle with Spock were all healed now. Scotty made his report from the Engineering deck. Everything was ready for departure. Everything and everyone was in place, except for one glaring deficiency. The science officer's station was still empty. Then a young man in Science blue crossed from the other side of the bridge and sat down at that station. Her heart faltered, but she controlled it. She would eventually get used to someone else sitting there, she supposed.

Kirk sat in the command chair, gave the order. "Mister Sulu, prepare to engage forward thrus-"

All eyes turned to the far turbolift as it swooshed open. In disbelief and tremendous relief she saw a very familiar and dearly beloved tall half-Vulcan framed in the open doors. He strode confidently across the bridge to stand beside Kirk, who rose from his chair to face him. She heard him request permission to come aboard, present his candidacy for first officer, offer to provide references.

Kirk almost burst out laughing, he was so happy. "It would be my honor, Commander." He resumed his seat and gave Sulu the departure order. And then Spock was walking toward her, his eyes glued to her, but so full of doubt. He had absolutely _nothing_ to doubt about, no, nothing at all. She never even considered anything else.

**Spock**

He nodded at Sulu's wide smile of acceptance, slightly stunned. They all seemed so _happy_ to see him on board. He had not anticipated this. Ignoring the opening in the railing surrounding the command chair that was right next to the science station, he crossed behind the captain's chair, circling it so that he could walk past the communications station on his way to seat himself. He approached her with a tremendous amount of uncertainty -- he had no idea how she would react. His eyes were drawn to hers, his face tightly controlled. She stood before her console, the control unit jutting from her ear, her face lifted to his. Her eyes gleamed. As he watched, a smile started at the corners of her mouth, spreading wider and wider as he drew even with her. He began to relax, his eyes softening, his mouth relaxing. He could not take his eyes off of her. She was so beautiful. The other man sitting at the science station rose, so that he could take over. He seated himself at the same time as Nyota and there they sat, within reach of each other, side by side at their stations. This was surely bliss. For the next five years, they would sit like this all day, every day, working together. And then there would be the nights. And soon, he would have to find a way to tell her of what his father had told him. For this moment, he was content just to sit here beside her, both doing the work they had trained so hard for.

____

Author's note: This is the end of this story. The first five-year mission starts a new story "Into the Wild Black Yonder", which will start tomorrow - and it's still M rated, so set your filters accordingly :-)


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